Clayface Point Two
by The Demon's Lover
Summary: Ruby Sinclair. Oswald Cobblepot. A maid with a hidden past. A criminal with a thirst for power. At first glance, they couldn't be any more different. But a powerful friendship is born between them. And it will shake Gotham to the core. Begins after Oswald's Arkham 'rehabilitation' and ends during the events of 'The Primal Riddle' (Season 3, Episode 17). OswaldxOC / Nygmobblepot.
1. Prologue

**Hello, Internet roamers! I am a woman of my word. Ergo, here is my Oswald x OC (sort of) story. I sincerely hope you like this, as I tried to keep faithful to Oswald's storyline while also adding my OC and changing a couple of details here and there. Only 3+ reviews necessary for a new chapter!  
**

 **-TDL**

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Prologue

Black is the color of night. Of the terrors that lurk within it.

Rain pelted the manor's windows, clacking like high heels on ice. Despite the air conditioners being on full-blast, the night's dampness still wormed its way through the walls. Mirrors were orbs of flat, smooth ebony. In their hidden havens, jewels shone dully like blind eyes. Candles sputtered as flames drowned in oceans of their own making. Grunts and whimpers rippled through the air like tossed pebbles.

Burrowed in the covers, Ruby Sinclair was summoning black memories.

All of a sudden she was eighteen again. Eight years ago. An eon ago. Strapped to a table, biting and spitting at anyone who came near her. Poking and prodding at her like she was a wax sculpture that needed extra touches. She could still feel the cold spear of terror piercing her belly, hiding behind the fury. That memory was just as strong as that of her body, slick with stress beneath the papery gown. But above all she remembered the doctor's gaze as he injected her with the liquid that would change her existence forever. A horrible sting, a wave of agony, and then...

Ruby shot up from the bed with a scream. It flowed from her mouth like bright red liquid, painting the walls with her fear. She sat in her damp blankets, gasping and shaking, as terror lurked in her mind's corners. As she swallowed hard, trying to soothe her now-hoarse throat, she collected the upper cover and wrapped it around herself. Ruby sat there, rocking back and forth, trying to calm down. Even as she tried, the skin beneath the blanket rippled unsteadily.

A low moan trickled into her ears. Freezing her.

Slowly, like a puppet with rusted joints, she turned her head. Her door looked like a black, rectangular mouth in the darkness. Ready to swallow her if she went near it. But when another moan entered her field of vision, Ruby recognized its owner. Duty pushed her on her feet. She slid her feet in her favorite slippers, the ones with plastic diamonds on them, and put on her robe. Without thinking twice she approached the door, yanked it open, and dived down the stairs. As her feet drummed the steps, Ruby reached into her pocket and whipped out a match. With a flick of her wrist she dragged it across the wall. In a second it was burning in her fingers. A red flower.

Red is the color of anger. Lust. Danger.

Ruby treaded through the halls, safe in her little coccoon of light. Shadows twisted and adopted new shapes in their corners. Moths flickered above her head. Portraits of Van Dahls long since past gazed down at her, judging her. She could almost hear them spitting insults at her. Just like the doctors had when she'd first shown them her...gift.

 _"Unbelievable!"_

 _"Disgusting!"_

 _"This is unheard of!"_

Would her master say the same, should he ever learn the truth? About what she could _really_ do? Ruby shuddered. Pressed onwards.

It didn't take her long to reach her master's door. She hesitated, her knuckles brushing against the door. Ruby had been serving Elijiah Van Dahl for seven years, since her nineteenth birthday. Before that, she had worked as a maid and housekeeper countless times. Never once had she found an employer as kind as Mr. Van Dahl, but even so, she could not ignore that entering his room at night would be extremely inappropriate. Besides, that bitch of his new wife would be there. No doubt trying to screw some extra golden eggs out of the magical goose. Growling softly, Ruby contented with peaking through the keyhole. Just in time to see a pale, robed figure shambling towards her.

White is the color of purity.

With a yelp Ruby backed away. The door opened with a sigh. Followed by a sob. A pale shadow loomed over her, yet curiously crouched to hide from sight.

Ruby's fear instantly melted into concern. The sobs continued, low in volume but intense in emotion. She felt her heart pinch at the sound. What had happened? She could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen Master cry. Ruby would have bet her favorite pearl ring that the whore he'd married had somehow caused it. But now was the time for comfort, not venomous speculation. Ruby's hand found the shadow's shoulder before she could stop it. "M-Master?"

"Oh!" Her master turned to her. A streak of lightning momentarily turned night into day. During that moment, Ruby saw it all. Elijiah Van Dahl's face was an open book to her. It was ashy in complexion, and streaked with silvery tearstains. His eyes were red and puffy, like raspberries. He blinked hard at Ruby, trying to identify her, before recognition rippled across his visage. "Oh, R-Ruby. I...I apologize. I..." He wiped his eyes and smiled sheepishly. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Who cares?" Ruby half-jokingly asked. Instead of cheering her master up as she had hoped, her jape only seemed to darken his sorrow. Briefly forgetting her place, she gestured to the stairs behind her. "Um, shall I prepare us a hot drink? Perhaps I can be of use." A crack of a smile. "My ears, anyway." To complete the runner-up quip, Ruby focused on her ears. They instantly grew to a freakishly large size, wiggling like worms on hooks. Master laughed feebly, unknowingly making Ruby glow. "Yes, thank you. I would rather enjoy that."

Ruby beamed.

* * *

Blue is the color of sadness.

How strangely reversing could life be. Years ago, on the eve of her first working day here, Ruby had been bundled in a blanket and sipping tea while Master had sat, listening quietly. Now, the exact opposite was happening. Only Ruby had added a dash of sherry to Master's tea.

It seemed to do him some good. With every sip, he appeared to be a bit calmer. In control. Yet he didn't look up from his mug. Not even when Ruby lit the kitchen's candles and accidentally burned herself.

 _They burned me_. The memory returned, uninvited, from its locked box. _To see if what they did to me affected my healing rate. They cut me, made me bleed-_

Ruby shook the thought away. This wasn't about her. It hadn't been for a long time. Ever since the master had saved her, he had become the center of Ruby's life. She lived to serve him. Even if it meant serving his bitchy new 'family' as well.

Ruby desperately wanted to ask Master what was bedeviling him so. But she couldn't. She'd already forgotten her place by organizing this little meeting. If she treaded any further into this sort of territory, she'd find herself in quicksand. Instead, she simply stayed put by the stove, rubbing her hands behind her back. Still and patient as a statue.

"Thank you, Ruby. I truly needed this."

Ruby glanced up. The master was still looking down at his cup, tracing a finger over the rim. "I...was reading the newspaper earlier. The pain keeps me awake at night, you see."

Ruby shuddered. She hated being reminded of that. The hole in her master's golden heart.

"And...I came across the obituaries." He paused, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. Ruby didn't move. She felt like she was in the same room as a scared rabbit. One sudden move and it would scamper away.

"And...someone I knew, many years ago, died recently." Master's eyes teared up again. He tried to hide it by sipping his sherry-laced tea. Ruby blinked, then glanced away, rubbing her arm. A question tried to slip out. She bit it back in. For a few more minutes, silence reigned the kitchen. Outside, the storm roared like a hungry lion. Rain threw itself against the glass and brick, trying to get in. Ruby began to clean the kettle that she'd used, just to give her hands something to do. Duty forbade her from leaving the kitchen. Loyalty kept her back turned as her master cried.

When the tears finally stopped flowing, Master sounded as in control as ever. "Ruby."

She turned her head.

"Could you go to Belles Fleurs tomorrow?"

"The florist?" Ruby quirked a brow, fully rotating. "Why?"

"I need to go to the Gotham Cemetery tomorrow." Master looked her straight in the eye. Ruby had never seen him look so serious before. Even in his most severe of states, there was always a twinkle in his eye. The hint of a smile. Not now. He looked like a man being forced to identify a corpse. "Oh, and please buy lillies; they were her favorite, as I recall."

"Her?" Ruby couldn't help asking.

Master smiled. It was the saddest smile that Ruby had ever seen. "If you wish to accompany me, you'll see. Tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello! Yes, I know that I said that I would wait for three reviews before uploading a new chapter, but this story is impatient to get out! Ergo, I will upload once a week.**

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Chapter 1

Ruby hated funerals. She disliked graveyards. But the detail that irked her the most was the hypocracy of it all. Everyone underground had sinned, just like those currently breathing. Yet what was every tombstone engraved with? 'Beloved'. 'Rest in peace'. No one apparently sinned once they croaked. Or maybe death was the ultimate eraser, wiping the slate clean. What a load of bull.

She herself hadn't heard from her parents in years. But even if they did turn out to have died, Ruby would have rather eaten glass than visited their graves. That was why, shamefully enough, she couldn't even begin to understand how Master was feeling.

But that didn't mean that she was going to disrespect his request. Ruby was pretty sure that she would have rather died than disappoint him. He, who had been good to her when no one else had been.

That was why, after placing the lillies in a watered vase, Ruby prepared herself. As she showered, taking caution not to use too much hot water despite her loving it, she took a moment to examine her naked body. No special effects. No shape-shifting. Just cold reality. She was rather tall, nearly five-foot-ten, with an average build and pale olive skin. Her hair, now flattened into a helmet shape around her scalp and chin, was a mix of blonde, brown, and gray. 'Sewage-color', she'd heard Sasha whisper once to her giggling brother. Acne scars covered not only her face but her neck and back. Her knees were knobbly.

Ugly, her mom would say. Only good enough for being a runner-up to a real beauty. Like she was, before Ruby had started growing in her belly and ruined her career prematurely.

 _Well, joke's on you_ , Ma, Ruby thought snarkily. _Now, I can make myself prettier than you ever were. Just...not for too long_.

Ruby twisted the knob shut. The water ceased in an instant. Getting out of the steamy bathroom, all toweled up like a California roll, she got to work. Wiping the steam from the mirror, she examined her face. Round. Plain. Straight nose. Cleft chin. Widow's peak. Unremarkable, except for maybe her dark blue eyes. Like lapis lazulis, newly polished.

Now, if only she could make the rest match. Make herself a worthy escort of Elijiah Van Dahl.

Never looking away from her reflection, Ruby brushed a hand over her acne scars. They melted into nothingness like spring snow. In seconds, her skin was as perfect as a newborn's. Then, Ruby knotted her hair over her head and pulled. When she let it fall again, it was still as curly as ever; but instead of its dull brown-blonde-gray, it had become a vibrant crimson. Smirking, Ruby snapped her fingers. Her nails, cut short and free of polish, darkened to black.

Ruby smiled, but her grin was short-lived. She reached out and grabbed her wristwatch. Set it to vibrate in six hours.

Six hours. And then, it was back to being Miss Plain Jane. Ruby sighed.

Twenty minutes later, Ruby completed her suit by slipping into the maid's coat she wore all the time. It was black. Thank heaven for small favors. Beneath the coat she wore a loose, black gown. Today, the only form of jewelry was an onyx necklace resting on her collarbone. Nothing too flashy: then again, as a housemaid, she could never attract too much attention. Ruby's job was to cook, clean, and stay well out of the way unless asked otherwise. She always wore jewels anyway; not out of vanity, but because she loved shiny things. Wearing them, keeping them close, made her feel secure.

"Ruby?" Master's voice echoed through her door. "Are you ready, my dear? I fear that traffic will delay us if we wait any longer."

"Coming, Master!" Ruby bolted out of the room. Swiftly, she turned the key in its lock. Whipped out a ribbon. The key skidded across it, black on black. Smiling, Ruby tied the key to one of her coat's button holes.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't one of Aladdin's forty thieves." The voice instantly set Ruby's teeth on edge. Her head snapped up. Sasha Van Dahl leaned against the wall, licking a lollipop the size of a potato. She was wearing a silk dress that no doubt had cost as much as Ruby's college fund, and her long hair looked like it'd just saluted the parlor's scissors. Sasha was smiling nastily at Ruby like a kid who'd just squealed to the teacher.

"That's Ali Baba." Ruby had to bite her lip to avoid adding, 'you boil-brained lout'.

"Whatever!" Sasha tossed her head like the actress in a shampoo ad. "They're cut from the same cloth. Muslim, ugly, and thieving."

"Aladdin was actually interpreted as handsome in every version." Ruby's teeth were starting to hurt from gnashing them so much. "And anyway, that is somewhat disrespectful, miss. How would you like it if a Muslim person called Cinderella a talentless gold-digger?"

"I'd tell him to go fuck himself, 'cause I got money." Sasha smirked. Gave her lollipop one triumphant lick. Ruby wondered how much Sasha would enjoy licking things with a busted lip and a bruised tongue.

"Ruby!" Master called again. "Please, I must insist!"

"Coming!" Ruby pushed past Sasha, ignoring her obnoxious smirk. She'd almost made it to the ground floor when another poisoned arrow struck her.

"Bye-bye, freak!" Sasha called mockingly. "Have fun with your ringleader!"

Ruby slammed the door so hard its glass eye cracked.

* * *

Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot stood in the drizzle, feeling his tears mix with the raindrops. He tried to hold them back, maintain some degree of dignity, but he simply couldn't. Rather than feel sadness, he felt like he was drowning in it. Sinking so deep that he couldn't find the surface again. Funny: Gotham's filthy, polluted river, and his little dip in it, was starting to look pretty good now.

On the surface; now _that_ was where monsters kept leering at him.

He'd just gotten out of Arkham Asylum, distancing himself from the place that had started feeling homey. From Professor Strange - Hugo! He had to call him Hugo! - who had been so kind and understanding. Who had helped him turn over a new leaf.

His former ally, Butch, had taken over Oswald's place with that horrible Tabitha. Oswald supposed he should have been grateful that they'd spared his life, but they'd covered him in tar and feathers before booting him out. Because his nickname was 'Penguin'. Penguin. Feathers. Hahahaha. Oswald wasn't even angry. He was simply disappointed and hurt that his attempt at patching things up had gone up in flames.

His best friend (which was a slightly less pathetic way of saying his 'only friend'), Edward Nygma, virtually kicked him out and had refused to listen to him when Oswald had tried to tell him that crime and violence weren't the answer.

This was the only place Oswald could come to. It was bleak and wet, with twisted old trees at every corner and the trains rattling by every few minutes. Yet it gave him the closest thing to peace that he could recall in a long time. Especially because _she_ was there.

"Hello, Mother." He sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "I...I'm sorry I couldn't visit sooner. But know that I've visited you in my mind countless times."

There was no answer. No sweet, thickly-accented voice telling him that he should have visited more, after everything she'd done for him. But almost immediately after she would hug him and tell him that she loved him.

"Things...are not going as I'd hoped." Oswald pushed some wet, black hair out of his teary eyes. Admitting it almost hurt more than the issue itself. "I feel so alone. And, honestly...I don't know how I'll manage without you."

His mother's grave crouched at his feet. Granite and smooth, with a simple inscription embedded in the stone. On one hand, Oswald was grateful that his mother had gotten such a nice tomb. His funds hadn't been wasted on this. But on the other hand, he'd have hoped not to spend money on his mother's tombstone for another ten years at least.

He was truly, and utterly, alone.

Oswald covered his face with his hands. Teardrops leaked from between his fingers. His thin shoulders shuddered beneath his coat.

He didn't notice the two people approaching him - or, rather, the grave - until a gentle male voice called out, "Excuse me?"

Oswald's face shot up. He caught a stray glance at the fellow grave-dwellers as he turned away, dabbing his eyes. Nearby stood an elegantly-dressed man with a bouquet of white lillies. Standing several feet away, head slightly bent and hands behinds her back, was a lady with crimson hair. She was watching him from beneath her eyelashes. Blushing slightly, Oswald turned to the man and smiled shyly. But his sorrow must have cracked through, for the man gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No, not at all." Oswald smiled bashfully, his unease already fading, as he stepped aside. The man knelt beside his mother's grave and placed the lillies at its feet. There was a deep sadness in his pallid face, a mist hiding behind his eyes. Oswald didn't speak for a moment. Neither did the man. Silence and sorrow linked them together. From her spot, the girl watched them with interest. Ready to intervene, it seemed.

"Did you...know her?" Oswald finally asked.

"I did once." The man spoke softly, still looking at the tomb. "Many years ago. I found her again only in death, I'm afraid." Tears shimmered in his heavy-lidded eyes, but he still forced a smile as he faced Oswald. Held out a gloved hand, open to companionship. "Elijiah Van Dahl, pleased to make your acquaintance."

Oswald grasped the offered hand. It was as warm and comforting as a fireplace during a blizzard. "Oswald Cobblepot."

"Fine name." Elijiah smiled. "You were close to Gertrud?"

"My mother." Oswald felt old wounds split open at the confession.

A faint crinkle appeared between Elijiah's eyebrows as he processed the name. His grip slackened ever so slightly. "Mother?" He echoed. Oswald nodded, slightly nervous by the change in the man's aura. The girl seemed to sense it as well. In no time at all she was by Elijiah's side, resting a hand on his elbow. Blushing furiously, she avoided looking directly at Oswald. "Is something the matter, Master?" She asked with concern. Elijiah, however, merely patted her hand as he turned to Oswald.

"I'm sorry," Oswald asked, "but how did you know my mother?"

"How old are you?" Elijiah demanded. The girl finally turned to Oswald, trying to see what had distressed her 'master' so. Her blush increased so much she looked sunburnt.

"Pardon?" Oswald asked.

"How old are you?" Elijiah asked again, slower but no less urgently.

Oswald felt thrown-off by the question, to say the least. But the new docility in his nature compelled an answer. "Uh, thirty-one."

"Thirty-one, yes." Elijiah nodded, his eyes clouding over as tears trickled their way down. The girl gasped. Her fiery hair suddenly bleached to a mousy color. Acne scars appeared on her neck and face. Oswald took a step back in shock. But what came next threw the girl's metamorphosis into the backseat. "She...she never told me." Elijiah muttered to himself, shock dripping from every word.

Oswald, now having had his fill of surprises, interjected. "Never told you about what?"

Elijiah kept staring at the grave, as if it was all he could see, and finally responded: "That I had a son."

Oswald felt as though the ground had dissolved from beneath his soaked feet. His heart froze in its rhythmic beats in his ribcage. The damp, muggy air suddenly dropped by ten degrees. The girl looked no less shocked. She looked from her master to Oswald, trying to spot the alleged family resemblance.

Father and son stood in the graveyard, speechless. Reunited.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The ride home was rather solemn. Shock hovered over everybody's heads like mist, dense enough to cut with a knife. Because the driver had the day off, Ruby sat before the wheel, steadily guiding them out of the city. In an attempt to diffuse the tension, she played the radio. But no matter how many tunes filled the silence, anxiety and confusion returned as the last notes faded. Whenever she could, Ruby glanced at the rearview mirror. Master and the young man, Oswald - Master was right, it was a fine name - were fidgeting about like two children who'd been set up on a play-date. Every now and then one would ask the other a question - such as where they were from, what they did for a living, and so on - but they would quickly lapse back into quietude.

Ruby's own head was raging with questions, all revolving around this mysterious stranger that Master was opening their home to. Who was he? Why did he seem so familiar? Where did he come from? The obvious answer to the last one was 'Gotham', but really, Ruby had seen newborn kittens that were more menacing than this guy. He kept looking at...well, everything, from out the window to the car's rather expensive interior. He even uncorked the scotch that Master kept and sniffed it. Ruby found the whole display rather adorable.

But was this really genuine? Or was he faking it? Grace and her two failed abortions had seemed quite angelic in the beginning. Yet the moment that Master had slipped the wedding band on her finger, Grace had split into two beings. The first was a saint-like wife that worshipped her husband; it was the side that she always showed Master. The second was the face she gave the rest of the household: an uptight, snobby lady who treated her dog better than she did the servants.

Would Oswald undergo the same voluntary transfiguration? Would he transform into a douchebag the moment Master trusted him?

Ruby tightened her hold on the steering wheel. He wouldn't get the chance. Ruby's fingernails, which had lost their black varnish in all of this excitement, grew and sharpened into talons.

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It was nice to arrive home at last. One of the other servants had set the fireplace ablaze, banishing the early evening chills. A disc was playing in one of the far-off rooms, giving the house a nice, cozy feel. Ruby shedded her coat the moment they were all inside, hanging it up next to the other servants'. Then, she approached Master and...Oswald. Bowed slightly when they turned to her. "May I have your jackets?"

"Of course, my dear. Thank you." Master slipped out of his fine cloak and held it out to Ruby. Oswald, clearly stunned, limited himself to simply parroting the older man's gesture. For a brief moment, their eyes met. Oswald, flustered, gave a timid smile of thanks. Ruby blushed all the way to her scalp. She took their garments wordlessly and hung them beside Madame Bitch's. She heard Master murmuring something to Oswald before he raised his voice, "Ruby, dear?"

Ruby spun around. Eager to please.

"Would you mind filling a hot bath for Oswald? And lay out some of my clothes for him to wear?" Master placed a hand on Oswald's back. The young man looked bewildered. And touched. Ruby pushed some curly hair out of her eyes and nodded. "O-of course, Master. I'll do that right away." She turned to Oswald, intended on telling him to follow her, but her tongue knotted itself up like a pretzel. Instead, she just smiled and began walking down the hallway. Thankfully, Master got the message and gave Oswald a gentle push towards her. With every step Oswald got a little closer to her. And her heart beat a little faster.

"Uh..." Oswald fingered his collar, looking at the high ceilings. "This is a...lovely house."

"Y-yes." Ruby didn't trust herself to say more. She turned a left. Oswald did the same. Another moment of silence passed. Then, Oswald spoke. "Um...can I ask you something?"

Ruby doubted that she could answer, but she nodded anyway. All guests had to be treated with the same respect as residents.

"Um..." Oswald trailed off, as if unsure how to word it. "Back at the graveyard, you...I mean, your hair. It changed color."

Ruby froze. Ran a hand through her hair and seized a lock. Held it over her eye. She felt her stomach curdle like old milk. Indeed, the lovely crimson flare had vanished completely. It must have happened when Master had made his grand announcement. God damn her! When would she learn to stabilize her disguises?

"Uh..." Ruby frantically searched for an excuse, something that didn't sound completely retarded. Finally, she found something. It wasn't fantastic, but it was still decent.

"I, uh, had it dyed. But it was temporary." Ruby was grateful that she had her back to Oswald. Otherwise, her deceit would have been painted all over her face. When one of the bathroom doors appeared before her, Ruby sighed with relief. She quickly entered, leaving the door open for Oswald, and set to work. Going on autopilot, she switched the water boiler on. In attendance, she spun around towards the closet. Inside were dozens of soaps and bubbles, candles and incense. It took her a moment to find what she was looking for. "Aaah." Ruby smiled as she held up a clear bottles filled with what appeared to be transparent oil.

"What's that?" Oswald's question cropped up from behind her.

"Rosewater." Ruby replied, setting the bottle on the edge of the tub. Then, swiftly skirting past Oswald, she headed to the wardrobe right outside the bathroom. A second later, she returned with a black-and-gold robe. "Here." She held it out to Oswald, who stared at it as one would a sack of diamonds. "The Master hasn't worn this in a while, so I suppose he won't mind." She didn't mention that she'd saved up on her salary for months to buy it for him. Oswald broke into a wide smile as he collected it, holding it up in admiration. "This is...the most beautiful article of clothing I've ever seen."

"It will definitely be the warmest." Ruby couldn't help bragging, encouraged by his words. "It's a mix of linen, wool, and cloth. Soft on the skin but keeps the cold out."

"I..." Oswald looked up to her with his icy-blue eyes. There was nothing cold about them. Ruby couldn't look directly at them, so she focused on his forehead. It looked just like Master's: wide, but not too much. In fact, now that she had a better look, he did resemble Master a bit. The same heart-shaped face, with the slightly pointed chin. The same big ears. The same thin, yet rosy lips...

Ruby snapped herself back to reality. She should not be thinking about lips. Especially this guy's lips.

"Thank you." Oswald smiled. "All of this," he gestured to the bathroom, "is more than I ever hoped for."

Ruby smiled faintly. Followed his hand to the restroom. "It is lovely, isn't it?" The bathroom, which was roughly the size of some bedrooms, was carved entirely out of white marble with pale pink veins. Several candelabras cast the space in a soft, warm glow. A large mirror, with a frame cut from mother-of-pearl, hung directly in front of the bathtub, which could easily hold a bear.

Speaking of which...

Ruby twisted one of the tub's golden knobs. Hot water burst from the faucet, sloshing against the tub's porcelain floor. Pushing some hair out of her eyes, Ruby sat down and watched the water rise. Every now and then, she sprinkled the flow with rosewater and bubbles. Oswald was quiet the entire time, which Ruby was grateful for. She had no idea what to say had he tried to chat. Finally, when the tub was filled, Ruby turned back to Oswald. He gave her a bright, trusting smile that easily belonged to a child. "Okay," Ruby softened her tone, "enjoy your bath, and you can join the master for a...well, late lunch, in the west tea room once you're done."

"Where's that?" A confused Oswald asked.

"Oh!" Ruby blushed, looking away. "Sorry, I forgot you don't know your way around, so..." She glanced at her wristwatch. "Okay, how about I come back in, say, an hour? Will you be done by then?"

"Yes." Oswald smiled brightly. "Thank you...Ruby, is it?"

Why did her name suddenly sound so much prettier? She was blushing so much it almost hurt. "Y-y-yes. And don't worry, just doing my job." She gave a bow. "Have a nice bath, sir."

"Oh, Oswald." He placed a hand on his chest. "Please."

Ruby lingered. Smiling timidly. Nodded. "Oswald. Okay." With that, she headed for the door. She'd almost made it out when Oswald called out to her. "Hey!"

Ruby turned.

"I just want you to know that," Oswald scratched his ear, suddenly bashful, "I think your hair's nicer just the way it is."

Ruby froze. Stood there. Stared at Oswald, waiting for the catch. He just returned her glance, never blinking or looking away. After a long moment, a smile spread across her face. "That's...really kind of you." She said. Bowed once more. "Enjoy your bath...Oswald."

"I will." Oswald assured her. "Thank you!"

For the next hour, Oswald splashed and played in his bath, blowing up bubbles and scrubbing the filth away. He was just like a child, having fun in the tub without a care in the world. Ruby respectfully stayed on the other side of the door, hands folded behind her back. But as she listened to him laugh, she smiled.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ruby and Oswald walked down the corridor, which the former slowly illuminated with a candle as they passed the lamps. Whenever they found a minor flaw - a consumed candle or a dusty mirror - Ruby would erase it as they walked it by. Oswald watched, amazed, at the beauty shining before him. With each new orb of brightness, the hallway's elegance became more evident. Above their heads were intricate murals of thorny roses and leafy vines. A canopy of heaven, that was what the Master had called it. She remembered that the job's completion had required five men and six months' worth of effort, nine hours each day. In return, Master had paid each of those artists their weight in silver. The walls were vanilla-hued and framed with gold. Nearly bare with furniture, the hallway had only a long, slightly faded carpet. It muffled their footsteps. Softened Ruby's slightly sore feet.

"I'm sorry to have to walk in front of you," She apologized over her shoulder, "but I didn't have time to light these earlier, and the...the _Mistress_ will have a fit if she finds a dark hall." God, how she hated calling that gold-digger by her household title. The word felt rotten in her mouth.

"Oh, that's okay." Oswald assured her warmly. "But...what's the problem? I mean, do you have to...?"

"Yes." Ruby understood immediately. "I'm just a handmaiden. I can't wait in front of, or beside, the residence. Always three steps behind them, that's the ticket."

"But..." Oswald blinked hard. "...That's so _condescending_."

Ruby agreed, and she almost wanted to admit that she hated having to apply that rule with the Evil Queen and her two brats. They always found a way to rub their elevated status in her face. But instead of saying so, Ruby went with the phrase that she'd grown up with: "That's just the way things are."

"Hmph." Oswald sighed. From the corner of her indigo eye, Ruby could see that he was pouting thoughtfully. He looked like a student who'd been presented with a Rubik's cube. It was downright adorable. Blushing slightly, Ruby skillfully changed the subject. "Master wants to speak to you privately. He also asked me to share a couple of the house rules with you." Without waiting for his answer, she pressed on. "Dinner is served at six. Most of the servants go home after that."

"You don't?" Oswald inquired gently.

Ruby took a moment to answer. This was all so...new. She'd been a maid here for seven years, since her nineteenth year, and had learned how to become as part of the background as the tapestries and chairs. All of the Master's visitors had treated her as such. Queen Bitch even took it a step further, dismissing her with a, "That will be all," and clapping her hands twice. Never had anyone taken the slightest interest in her.

Until now.

"I...sleep in the attic." Ruby replied nervously, quickly using her sleeve to wipe the grime off a mirror. In one swoop, it was as polished as a pearl. "The acoustics allow me to hear any noises in the house." She tapped her ear, where her peridot earrings shone lime-green in the candles' light. "And I have rather sharp ears."

"Fascinating." Oswald sounded like he actually meant it. Ruby smiled timidly in thanks before continuing her tread. Oswald trotted at her heels like a newborn foal following its mother. Helpless. Delicate. Once again, Ruby wondered how he'd survived in Gotham. A few more minutes of silence passed between them. Ruby had so many questions that she wanted to ask, but she kept her mouth shut. It wasn't her place to inquire. Her job was to serve in silence.

Finally, the door to the tea room appeared as if by magic. Ruby's nostrils picked up the delicate aroma of vegetable soup. Smiling softly, touched that the Master had personally prepared the meal for Oswald instead of just delegating the job to the cook. Yet another shred of proof that she was working for the kindest man in Gotham. Turning back to Oswald, she bowed from the waist up. "This is your stop, Oswald." She gestured to the door with an outstretched arm. The black-haired man went as white as a sheet. Yet he put on a brave face. "Thank you, Ruby." He lurched towards the door. For the first time, Ruby noticed that Oswald limped slightly. A pang of sympathy shot through her, along with curiosity.

As he passed by her, Ruby reached out without thinking. Gently touched his arm. Oswald stopped, surprised, and looked at her. Ruby felt her cheeks burning like lumps of coal in a fireplace, but she did her best to smile. Hopefully, the hallway's duskiness hid her blush. "Don't worry," she assured him, "I've known the Master for years. He wouldn't harm a fly, even if it was sitting right on his nose." Treading the thin line even further, she gave Oswald's arm a tiny squeeze. "You have nothing to concern yourself with."

Oswald visibly relaxed, and Ruby, in turn, felt better. A pale hand, with slightly yellow fingernails, took hers. Ruby froze as Oswald held her hand, looking at her with the gentlest of gazes. "Thank you, Ruby. You're very kind."

Ruby bowed again, if only to hide the tears that'd sprung up. "Duty, Oswald." She felt Oswald pat her hand before pulling away. The heat that had enclosed her hand evaporated. Suddenly, she felt chilled. Quickly holding her hand over the candle's blinding flame, she closed the door behind Oswald. She lingered, listening to the scrapes as two chairs were pushed back. The clink of metal - the ladle, probably - against porcelain. The slosh of soup filling a bowl. Then, the Master began to speak.

Ruby knew that any self-respecting servant would have departed at this point. This was clearly a very private, intimate moment between...father and son. If Master had wanted Ruby present, as he did almost all the time, then he would have invited her to join them. Even if it just meant clearing the plates afterwards. But he...hadn't. Honestly, this hurt Ruby a little. Ruby had always been allowed to stand by Master. Even when his mother had died, Ruby had been permitted to remain in the sickly-sweet bedroom while Master grieved. When he'd been too depressed to get out of bed, Ruby had bathed him, shaved him, and all but spoon-fed him.

Now...

Ruby shook her head, clearing it. What was going through her thick skull? Master owed her nothing. He'd already done more for her than she could ever hope to repay. Who's to say he had to share everything with her? The least she could offer him in return was some privacy.

So that was what she'd do.

Taking a deep breath, Ruby began her march back down the hallway. To distract her straying curiosity, she made a check-list of this evening.  
Five o'clock: clean the dining room with the other maids.  
Five-thirty: set the table.  
Five forty-five: change in her maid's costume. In all of this hussle and bussle, she hadn't gotten out of the black dress yet. While the Master probably wouldn't mind, Queen Bitch would seize the chance.  
Six o'clock: stand in waiting while the family ate, and clear the plates afterwards.

Then, her day would be complete.

A figure emerged from the corridor's entrance, coming straight towards her. For a split second, Ruby was scared. Went back in the past. That night in the alley, under the icy rain. But no. She couldn't go back to that alley. She revisited that place in her nightmares often enough. The person passed one of the lanterns. Warm, hazy light fell upon a familiar face. One that dragged against Ruby's nerves like a cheese grater.

"Oh, great." She muttered to herself.

"Why, hello, Ruby!" Sasha Van Dahl giggled as she stepped forward. She tossed some caramel waves over her shoulder. When Ruby saw what she was wearing, Ruby could almost feel her skin becoming green with envy. Resting on Sasha's pebble-smooth collarbone was a diamond necklace. Not just transparent diamonds, either: some were green, others yellow, and a few were even black! The rarest type of diamond of all! Ruby bit her bottom lip so hard she felt it pierce. Sasha's annoying voice snapped Ruby out of her jewel-trance. "I am so sorry I couldn't clean up my room this morning!" She laughed. "But I had better things to do - like count the number of shoes in the closet I keep them in!"

Ruby blinked, momentarily stunned. "Your shoes have their own closet?" A second later she cursed herself for taking the bait.

"Mm-hm!" Sasha nodded sweetly. "And they're all _very_ expensive. I'd cancel that trip to the bank this month, if I were you. Don't think Elijiah will have any leftover scraps to throw your way."

Ruby's fingers clenched around the candle's tallow body. Her skin began to ripple like a body of water at the mercy of the wind. "I serve Elijiah Van Dahl out of loyalty, not payment expectancy."

"Yeah," Sasha agreed, "last I checked, circus freaks didn't get paid."

An extra pair of arms began to sprout from Ruby's ribcage like weeds. Pushed against the dress's soft fabric. Ready to strangle the life out of this stupid whore. With some difficulty, Ruby forced them back beneath her skin. She felt the extra skin, muscles, and bone dissolve into nothing, rejoining her natural structure.

Sasha pushed some imaginary strand behind her ear, completely oblivious to Ruby's dilemma. Looking around as if bored, she asked, "Anyway, where's Elijiah? I need a thousand dollars."

 _Why?_ Ruby thought snarkily, _did the whore house not pay you generously enough?_ Suddenly, the maid brightened. Grinned from ear to ear. "I fear that, in this moment, Master is unavailable." She paused for effect. "He is entertaining his son."

Sasha's eyes bulged, perfect eyebrows scrunching. "Excuse me?"

"Oh!" Ruby placed a hand on her small chin. The very image of innocent surprise. "I suppose Master never told your dear mother that she wasn't his first love? That many years ago, he fell in love with his family's cook? So much so that he and I visited her grave today?"

Sasha's smarmy expression was ancient history by now. She was glaring at Ruby the same way she would at a dog turd sitting in the middle of her bed. Ruby took a second to drink in the satisfaction. "Well, it seems that Master's innocent love bore fruit. A very polite young man named Oswald. I must say, the family resemblance is really quite striking. Anyone with eyes could see that they were related."

Sasha was snorting through her nostrils like a bull about to charge. Ruby smiled wide. "Isn't it sweet? How the family just got a little bigger? I can't wait for you, Master Charles, and Madame Grace to meet Oswald in person."

By this point, Sasha had become so stiff that her muscles were like plywood. Ruby enjoyed every second of the show. "Well, I would love to stay and chat, Miss Sasha, but I have work to do. I have to make things especially nice for the future head of the Van Dahl family."

Sasha's face became beet-red. "Why, you-"

Ruby blew out her candle. The smoke hit Sasha in the face. Ruby swerved around her and walked away.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Ruby placed a vase of lillies in the middle of the table. She leaned forward, sniff the fragrant sweetness. It made her smile. Indeed, it was easily to believe that this had been Gertrud's favorite flower. They were white as ivory, deepening to deep pink towards their center. Their petals were velvety and smooth to the touch. The only down side that Ruby saw was that, in a few days' time, they would wilt and go brown, their sweet scents gone foul. Like all things in life.

There was a soft tap on Ruby's shoulder. Snapping out of her trance, she glanced around. A pretty blonde maid - Jessie, that was her name - jerked her thumb towards the door. "Mr. Van Dahl's...son? He's asking for you."

Ruby felt herself blush all the way up to her roots. A warmth spread from her chest to her limbs, sparking their nerves. Without thinking she reached up and pushed some hair out of her eyes. Behind her ears, even though it wasn't long enough for that. "Me?" She asked shyly. "Are you sure?"

Jessie smirked. "Are there any other 'Ruby's around here?"

"Uh..." Ruby looked away. "There's a Sapphire Davis and Janice Cuprite."

Jessie's smirk morphed into a look of confusion. "Huh?"

Ruby scratched her temple. "Rubies and sapphires, despite their opposing color, are actually very similar to each other. They have the same endurability and texture, and are often found in the same places. The one detail that sets them apart, their color, is merely due to the difference in chemicals. And the cuprite often comes in red, and is in the same gemstone branch as the ruby. So-"

Jessie held up both hands. "Stop!" Her hands went up to her forehead. "God, Ruby, when you go off on your rock babble, it's like listening to an audio textbook."

Ruby chuckled. "Well, what did you think I went to college for?"

"To get a good job, just like the rest of us." Jessie chuckled. "And I gotta say, not bad. Two thousand bucks a month? Hell, I've seen lawyers that make less!"

"Yeah." Ruby sighed, seeing the futility in making her point. Brushing dust from her uniform, she asked, "Where has he been placed?"

"The largest guest room, right next to Mr. Van Dahl's." Jessie chuckled. Placed a hand on Ruby's arm. "God, even Bitchy Barbie and Fat-Nosed Ken don't get to stay on the same floor as Mr. Van Dahl. Ha!"

Ruby quirked a brow. "Oh? Did it get under their skin?"

"Is the sky blue?" Jessie might have said more, but just then Charles walked in. The maids quickly looked down, focusing on setting the table or dusting the chandelier. Ruby and Jessie tured their heads, pretending to look at the door. Charles glanced around, seeing that no one was going to strike up a conversation with him anytime soon. Thus, he spoke. "So, I hear this house is turning into a soup kitchen."

The maids' hands quickened. Ruby cleared her throat, drawing Charles' attention. "Oswald Copplepot is Master's son. Ergo, we are all bound to serve him just as we do you."

Charles chortled, actually slapping the table. The china dishes rattled from the impact. "Yeah, good one, Rudy."

"Ruby." The maid correctly stiffly.

"Whatever." Charles sat down in his usual seat. Ruby rolled her eyes. Yep, he'd definitely sprung from the same rotting loins as Sasha. Besides the uncanny familial resemblance, there was the same snooty attitude. At least this one had a brain rattling around in there. Sasha's brain was programmed for shopping, and pretty much nothing else.

Ruby, knowing that her low social status forbade her from answering, merely bowed and left the dining room. Traded well-lit clatter and companionship for darkness, silence, and solitude. Sanctuary. Ruby pressed her fingers into her forehead, temples, and eyes. Trying to keep it all in. But her anger just wouldn't be cowed. That was why, seeing a mirror, she ran to it. Transformed her face. Sharpened her cheekbones, lengthened her nose, and darkened her hair to chestnut-brown. Her eyes changed shape, color, and size. Looking back at her was the face of Charles. "Look at me," she said, perfectly immitating his voice, "just because I wrote a few novels that I won't publish, I think I'm hot stuff." Chuckling, Ruby quickly dropped the illusion.

She stretched, massaged her muscles as a reward for their unexpected workout. Already feeling a bit better, Ruby turned to the staircase. Where Oswald awaited.

Butterflies crowded Ruby's stomach. She slapped a hand over it, biting her lip. But it hardly helped. Just thinking of Oswald made her feel...funny. Her heart rate picked up. Her skin felt feverish. And whatever appetite she'd had completely faded. God, and to think she only got this excited when she got new jewels! This was...strangely better. Ruby adored jewels, especially her namesake. But gems can't speak to you, nor give you comfort or warmth. They were stones of beauty. They serve their purpose, and nothing else.

Kind of like her. Ruby served, wielded her power, and nothing else. Nor did she _want_ to do anything else.

Taking a deep breath, Ruby headed up the stairs. She knew exactly which ones would creak and which needed more nails. In addition, she knew how expensive the rug covering the steps had been. Master had actually asked her what she thought of it! Smiling fondly, she ran a hand up the banister as if stroking a cat. Once she reached the corridor, Ruby glimpsed out the windows. Down below, servants were squatting and kneeling in the vegetable garden. Given the constant rain and dampness, it was a miracle that they'd managed to grow anything. For the most part, that small patch of earth grew onions, carrots, and celery. Well-groomed shrubs served as a fence, warding off unwanted visitors. At the garden's corner, a large oak tree loomed. Ruby smiled, making a mental note to read there soon.

Finally, she reached Oswald's door. Taking several deep breaths, Ruby reached into her pocket with one hand while knocking with the other.

"Yes?" A voice called out.

"Uh, it's Ruby." She replied.

The door creaked open, and Oswald's pale, angular face poked out. He smiled happily at the sight of her. "Hi!" He greeted, "Um, do you have a minute?"

"Sure." Ruby shrugged. "What can I do for you?"

Oswald stepped aside, widening the gap between the door and the frame. "Please, come in."

Ruby swallowed hard, nodded, and obeyed. He closed the door behind her and grinned once again. "Thank you for meeting me on such short notice. I-I know dinner will be served soon, and you probably have work to do, but I needed some guidance."

Ruby raised her eyebrows. "Guidance?"

"For how to look." Oswald gestured to himself. Ruby resisted the urge to whistle. He had changed in a fine black tuxedo, with a perfect black bow and his hair neatly combed back. "How do I look?"

Ruby fingered her blouse's collar. "Great." She didn't say more. Didn't trust her voice.

Oswald sighed. Dropped his hands. "That's all?" He sounded as bummed out as a kid who'd just been assigned extra geometry homework. Ruby sniggered, amused by his reaction. "What is the problem, Young Master?"

"Oswald, please." Oswald smiled timidly. Unfortunately, his grin was short-lived. He ran a hand through his inky hair, looking away. "I just...I'm going to be meeting my new family tonight. I want to look..." He paused, unsure of what to say. "...Perfect." Ruby stared at him, long and hard. He looked so lost, desperate to please yet clueless on how to do it. His icy-blue eyes were big and watery, ready to tear up any second. His beaked nose and thin lips, which would have looked good on a criminal, only added to his vulnerability. Strangely enough, Ruby saw a bit of herself in Oswald. That deep-rooted need to repay kindness, to show people the best you have to offer. That was when she knew that he would have her service one day, when Master was no longer alive.

Even if the mere thought tore her up inside.

Ruby forced a smile. "Don't worry, I'll help."

Oswald broke into a wide smile, shaky and hopeful. "Really?"

"Of course." Ruby paused. "You're part of the family now." With that, she looked around the chamber for anything helpful. It was a bedroom almost as large as the Master's, with pale blue as the dominant color. The floor and ceiling were white as fresh snow, while the walls were the powdery blue of Easter eggs. A large canopied bed was positioned near the curtained windows. Every morning, he would be among the firsts to see the rising sun. A few portraits of snowy landscapes added flavor to the room as well. There was a writing desk, a comfortable-looking armchair, and a small bookcase. In the corner was a closet large enough to hold Narnia and all of its neighboring kindoms. Sitting on the top of it, probably to save it from being knocked over, was a vase of white roses.

"Excellent!" Ruby shambled up to the closest.

"W-what?" Oswald asked. "What is it? May I help?"

"No, thanks." Ruby replied, standing on her tiptoes. She pressed herself against the wardrobe, reaching. "I...I got it." Five feet separated her from her prize. Groaning, she glanced at Oswald. He was staring at her intently, ready to intervene if she needed help. Should she ask him to look away? Leave the room? What would he think?

Ruby stopped. She had used her gift in front of the Master (and only him) for so long that she'd forgotten what it was like to be near someone who didn't have a clue. What would happen if Oswald saw? He'd run away screaming, is what would happen. He'd tell. Ruby couldn't have that. And, in all honesty...she was starting to like the bright-eyed, innocent young man. She didn't want to scare him away.

Closing her eyes, Ruby took a deep breath. Asked something foreign. "Um...is it too late to take you up on your offer?"

Oswald suddenly looked like he'd found a golden brick in his Christmas stocking. "No, of course not! Here..." He limped towards her, his eyes shifting from the closet back to her. Calculations flitted behind his face. Finally, he turned to her and spoke, "Um, I can...pick you up, if you like. That should bridge the gap."

Ruby hoped that her blush wasn't as evident as it felt. "Uh, okay, um...you sure you can handle my weight?"

Oswald chuckled. "Please. How much do you weigh? A hundred and fifty? A hundred and fifty-five, tops?"

Ruby shot him as sour a look as her position would allow.

Oswald thankfully got the message. His hollow cheeks glowed pink. He held his hands out. "Right, sorry. Women don't discuss their weight. Then again, I know nothing of the matter. I merely repeat what I've heard."

"Well, in this case, you heard right." Ruby flicked a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Okay, then. Please...pick me up. It will only be a second."

"Will do!" Oswald stepped behind her and, with no hesitation, looped his arms around her waist. Ruby gasped at the physical contact. A second later her feet were lifted off the ground. She careened towards the vase, reaching...and still not getting it! Ruby struggled, trying to close those last few inches to no avail.  
There was only one way.  
"How's it going up there?" Oswald's question was slightly muffled by Ruby's blouse. The maid smirked. "Fine." Quickly, discreetly, she focused on her outstretched arm. It elongated several inches beyond its natural length, paving the way to success. Ruby's fingers closed around the most perfect white rose she could find. "Okay, you can put me down!"

Oswald all but dropped her. Ruby landed nimbly on her feet, grinning like a clown. Held the rose out to Oswald. "Thank you. And, you'll see, this will absolutely _make_ your outfit. The white rose means-"

"I'm worthy of you." Oswald spoke softly. Ruby froze. "Huh?" That seemed to snap the young man back to reality. Still blushing up a storm, he gestured to the flower. "That is the meaning behind the white rose: 'I am humble, yet worthy of you'."  
"Yes..." Ruby slowly lowered her hand, entranced. She stared at Oswald, trying to peel back his layers like an onion. See him truly. "How...how did you know?"

Oswald hitched in a breath. An old wound began to ripple, threatening to rip open again. "My mother." The mere mention of her nearly drew him to tears. But Oswald refused to cry. Ruby had been so nice to him. And she was so...soft. He couldn't wreck it all by bursting into tears like a baby. Trying to hide his sorrow, he continued. "She loved flowers. There were plenty of them in her apartment. She loved searching for the meaning behind flowers, too. That is how I know."

Ruby pursed her thin lips. Not knowing what to say, she chose to stay silent. Bowing her head, she snapped the rose's stem so that only a tiny bit potruded from the blossom. Then, carefully, she tucked it in the pocket of Oswald's jacket. Oswald watched her with unblinking eyes. Ruby paused a moment before buttoning Oswald's jacket. Then, as if on second thought, she reached around her neck and undid something. She pulled out a necklace from beneath her blouse's collar. Oswald gasped. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, laden with different types of stones. Knowing little of geology, he could only identify the rubies and pale pink pearls. The only link tying the stones together was their color scheme: red and pink.

"Oh, my, Ruby. It's...dazzling." He leaned forward to take a better look. "Where did you get this?"

Ruby seemed surprised that he asked, but answered him anyway. "I bought it. It took nearly six months' worth of saving, but the end result..." A finger traced one of the closer gems, "...was sublime." Another pause, then she held it out to him. "I would...like to lend it to you for tonight."

"What?" Oswald blinked up at her. "But why? You clearly love this necklace."

"I love all of my jewelry. But...it's full of good omens." Ruby cracked a smile. She pointed at a pink, almost transparent jewel. "This is a rose quartz. It is associated with healing, confidence, love, and compassion. All of which are needed to...form a family."

Now, the tears did come.

"And this," Ruby pointed at a jagged, orange-red stone, "is a jasper. They represent nurturing and relaxation." She got ready to point to another one. "This-"

Oswald's hands rested on hers, silencing her. Ruby blinked, then looked at her future master. He was looking down at their feet, shoulders shaking slightly. Every few seconds, shining droplets dripped from his face and hit the carpet. Ruby couldn't speak. She feared shattering what was already so delicate.

"Th...thank you." Oswald was clearly struggling to get the words out. "I...I'm deeply grateful for this gift. And I promise I'll give it back after dinner."

"I'd appreciate that." Ruby smiled, gently pried her hands free of Oswald's. Then, she tied the jeweled chain around Oswald's pale, swan-like neck. Finally, she slipped it beneath the collar. Out of sight. Oswald felt the gems touch his skin, still warm from hers. He shivered.

Ruby stood back, eyeing her handiwork. Oswald wiped his eyes and met her gaze. Thrust his shoulders back and straightened. Ruby stared at him for a moment before smiling. "You're going to be the belle of the ball."

Oswald giggled.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  


Ruby stood by the wall, hands folded behind her back. After saluting Oswald, and wishing him luck, she'd barely had time to dress for dinner. Of course, it was a trifle matter. No one would be looking at her. Most of the family would barely notice she was there at all. But she still liked to look as nice as her homely status allowed. In the end, she chose a holly blue agate necklace, the sharp stones the color of pale berries. Hanging from her ears were tear-shaped lapis lazulis, framed in silver. Ruby wore these last ones fondly. Her grandmother had left them to her when she'd died, nearly two decades ago. Even at that young age, Ruby had loved jewels. Shiny things in general.

The pleasant memory quickly soured when Ruby recalled what had happened immediately afterward. Her mother had gotten angry and upset that Grandma Sinclair had left such a valuable piece of jewelry to a mere child. Those were the words that Mommy Dearest had used: a _mere child_. Ruby had spent the rest of the night crying. Then, as if to punish the girl for her grandma's choice, Mom had starved Ruby for a whole day. No food, no water. The next morning, Ruby had gulped down expired milk and sour grape juice like they were ambrosia.

Ruby snapped herself back to reality just as the door opened. Oswald appeared, the white rose glowing softly in the candelight. His face, as white as polished ivory, was a mixture of anxiety and hope. Icy-blue eyes shone like frozen sapphires. There was a gentleness in his features, a sheer need to please, that was painful to look at. Oswald felt her eyes, broke out into a grin, and waved like a child on a roller coaster. Blushing Ruby returned the gesture. Then, as her status demanded, she gave him a small bow.

Their brief moment was destroyed when Grace waltzed in. Ruby's smile melted like putty from her round, chinless face. Grace wasn't necessarily an ugly woman. Yes, she was in her forties, and a bit chunky, but not bad. She had smooth, golden skin and shiny brown hair always collected in a bun. Her lips were full, and her fashion taste was sophisticated. Tonight, she wore a black dress and a diamond necklace framed in onyx. Grace would have been almost beautiful if it hadn't been for her eyes: small and beady, like a rodent's. Cruel, just like her children's.

"Hello." She smiled welcomingly at Oswald. "You must be Elijiah's...son."

Ruby sensed that Grace had been thinking of any word except for the one she picked. Oswald didn't notice. "Yes, I am!" He collected Grace's hand, well-manicured and soft, and kissed her knuckles. A true gentleman. Ruby felt a hot fork stab her nerves. "You must be Grace. You're even more beautiful than I imagined."

"Stop it, you charmer." Grace was still smiling, but her simper didn't reach her eyes. "Please," she gestured to the table, "sit."

Oswald was so pleased, so flustered, you'd think he was speaking to the queen of England. "Thank you." He sat down, quickly scooting close to the table. Whipping out the cloth napkin, he spread it across his lap. Then, he adjusted the white rose in his pocket. He turned to Ruby, who felt her breath freeze in her throat. They shared a secret smile.

"Well?" Grace sat down in her usual spot - at the head of the table. Her tone had gone vinegary as she turned to Ruby. "What're you waiting for? Ring the bell."

"Uh, right." Ruby cleared her throat. Embaressement bled into her cheeks. Walking to the large brass bell nailed into the wall, she rung it once. Twice. Thrice.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

A moment later, Ruby heard footsteps rumbling down the steps. "Everyone's on their way, Madame." She bowed.

"Hmm." Grace poured herself a glass of wine. "You're awfully chatty this evening."

Ruby was still bowing. Good. Her entire face was on fire. Oswald glanced between his stepmother and...new servant, unsure of what to think. Help came in the form of Sasha and Charles, groaning about how hungry they were. For the first time, Ruby was grateful for their presence. At least they were able to distract their mother long enough. Ruby watched, silent as the drapes behind her, as Sasha and Charles introduced themselves to Oswald. They were ear-to-ear smiles, talking as sweetly as songbirds and complementing him. It turned Ruby's stomach.

But where was the Master?

"Where's Father?" Oswald asked worriedly. "Is he alright?"

"Yes, my dear, don't worry." Grace stroked Oswald's hand as though they'd known each other for years. "Your father, you see..." She paused dramatically, "His health has seen better days, and sometimes the medicines make him tired."

The concern amplified on Oswald's face. His eyes widened, his lips parted, and his already pale skin went fish belly-white. Ruby could tell how natural he was being, without a mental script or higher purpose. "Oh." Oswald swallowed. Reached for his glass and drained its water in one gulp. Ruby wanted to say some word of comfort, but her position would never have allowed it. Not in front of these leeches. Whenever they were around, whatever bending of the rules Ruby allowed herself vanished. Doing otherwise would have been giving them ammunition.

Oswald, on the other hand, felt like ants were crawling in his stomach, nipping and clawing. He had only known his father for a few hours, but he already felt close to the older man. Elijiah had spoken tenderly of Oswald's dear mother, speaking of their romance blossoming when Elijiah had been a young boy and Gertrud had been a cook. Oswald's grandparents had forbidden their romance, and shortly after Elijiah had threatened to run away with Gertrude, they'd sent her away. What none of them had ever suspected was that, deep inside Gertrud's warm womb, a tiny seed had been planted. The seed of life that was now sitting in a luscious dining room, dressed in an expensive suit and hoping to start anew.

Foosteps clambored towards the dining hall. Determined. Precise.

"Here he comes!" Grace rose from her seat. Clapping her hands, she sent the other maids into the kitchen. "You," she turned to Ruby, "be ready. Shoulders _squared_ ," she adjusted Ruby's shoulders, causing a wince, "mind _cleared_ ," she flicked Ruby's forehead, "and back _straight!_ " She slapped Ruby's spine. Oswald stared, horrified, while Charles and Sasha chuckled. Ruby grumbled but did as she was told.

In that moment, Master walked in. His face was a bit white and damp, but other than that he was as elegant as ever.

"Father!" Oswald raised his voice, "Ruby was-"

Icy-blue met deep indigo. Ruby shook her head ever so slightly. Oswald understood. He pressed his lips together, albeit reluctantly.

"Yes, my boy?" Master asked warmly, clearly worried, "Is something the matter?" Charles, Sasha, and Grace were as still as trees, their eyes following their guest.

Oswald glanced at Ruby. Her expression was firm. _Don't._ He looked anything but happy about it. Yet he nevertheless changed the subject. "Ruby was...very kind to me today."

Ruby blinked. Blushed. Looked away.

"Ah, I know." Master said kindly, taking his place at the other head of the table. "I assigned her to you for that very reason. She has been here for many years. Almost a decade, in fact. If it hadn't been for her, I doubt the house would be as pristine as it is now."

Ruby hid a smile behind her palm. As if on cue, the other maids emerged from the kitchen. Each carried a steaming dish of lamb chops, greens, and mashed potatoes. Ruby grimaced behind her impassive mask. Thankful that she had her own dinner, wrapped up in aluminum foil, waiting for her in the kitchen. Once all of the plates had been placed before the family, Ruby stepped forward. Selecting a second bottle of wine - white, this time - she uncorked it with a bread knife. Then, one by one, she poured each one's glass except for the Master's. His health problem forbade alcohol consumption. Not for the first time, a knot of worry floated in Ruby's stomach.

"That will be all." Grace clapped her hands twice. Ruby internally sighed, set the bottle on the table, and returned to her post.

* * *

Half an hour later, the plates had been cleared. Dessert, vanilla custard, was served. All of the servants, but Ruby, had been dismissed. The serving girl herself was struggling to stay awake, given how boring the conversation was. First, Sasha prattled about some shoes she'd seen in the store. Then, Grace had discussed some dull affairs that Ruby had barely paid attention to. Oswald himself hardly spoke. Rather, he sat there, absorbing everything being told like a happy little sponge. Ruby liked watching him. He looked so enraptured now, as he listened to Charles' claim of seeing a ghost.

"There, clear as day," he said, "a ghost. She was a pale woman in a long, black dress." He gestured to the space between himself and Oswald. "She was this close."

"What did you do?" Oswald asked, entranced.

"Oh, I ran away screaming, of course!" Charles exclaimed, triggering laughter throughout the table. Ruby rolled her eyes, of course holding her tongue. She had known Charles long enough to know how he loved attention. He and Sasha had this much in common. Besides, Ruby had spent more time here than he and his dim-witted family, and she had never seen anything of the sort.

"Do you believe in ghosts, Oswald?" Grace asked.

Oswald looked somewhat bashful as he replied, "Yes, I do. I've seen them." Ruby quirked a pallid eyebrow, interested. Master spoke up, "This house has several of them." Ruby smiled, already knowing where this was going. He had talked of this matter shortly after Ruby had moved in, her maid's uniform ironed and waiting. She had found it silly then, and she found it silly now. Oswald, on the other hand, was staring at his father with eyes the size of kiwis.

"But don't worry, they're all quite friendly." Master smiled. It was times like these that it was hard to tell if he was joking or not. He always spoke with such a warm, kind, caring tone, that Ruby could never see him lying. The only time Master had ever jested with her had been on her first morning serving him breakfast. He'd eyed the eggs, bacon, and hash browns she'd slaved over, and claimed that he was watching his weight. Ruby had stared at him, stunned, before Master down into laughter. The two had chortled together, and Master had invited her to eat her breakfast with him.

"Don't listen to him." Grace advised Oswald. "There are no ghosts here." She fed her dog a chunk of lamb she'd been saving in her napkin. Stroked the hound as it chewed. Ruby grimaced.

"Oh, there's ghosts, all right." Master insisted. "This house was built by my grandfather. He died here. His wife, and two sisters also passed away upstairs." He spoke of these matters airily, as though they were simple facts of life. That was something Ruby had always admired about Master. He didn't shy away from harsher realities than the one he'd been exposed to. People lived. People died. Everyone's turn would come sooner or later, so why quake in your boots in anticipation?

"And my poor dear parents." Master finished. "Yes. Many ghosts."

An awkward silence cloaked the table. The only noise at all came from the same violin concerto that Grace had Ruby put every night. Ruby was sick to death of it even though she adored the violin. But in that moment, it was comforting. Seeing Sasha, Charles, and Grace with their feathers ruffled was welcomed as well. Oswald looked seriously uncomfortable for a moment. But then, he swiftly changed the subject with a soft, innocent, "How did you two meet?"

 _Oh, spare me_. Ruby folded her arms.

"That's a boring story," Grace said dismissively, almost with embarressement, "really, I-"

"No, let me tell it, dear." Master said kindly. Ruby pinched the bridge of her nose, keeping it in. She swiped a stray lock out of her eyes just in time to hear the story...again.

"After my mother died, I sat alone in this house for months. Barely got out of bed, in fact." Master, again, spoke factually with no exaggeration. He made it sound bad, but Ruby had been there. It had been dreadful seeing her employer waste away, the meals she'd leave in front of his door untouched. She had been forced to bathe and shave Master when he'd gotten too depressed to do it himself. After a while, it had felt like she'd been serving the living dead. Still she had refused to leave.

"Then, with Ruby's encouragement," Master gestured to the handmaid, transferring all eyes on her, "I began to leave the house. Finally, I found a diner not too far from here. I'd go there every day at the same time, order the same thing."

"Chicken soup with a side salad." Grace quoted begrudgingly. Ruby internally smirked. It must have stung Grace to remember what she had been before the Master's generosity had brought her here. As the saying goes, the monkey that wears a dress is nevertheless a monkey.

Oswald, meanwhile, was listening with sparkling eyes and a big smile.

"Grace was my waitress." Master said fondly, looking at the woman as one would a Greek goddess. "and I grew very fond of her. She told me of her two poor children, Sasha and Charles, and how they suffered at the hands of their abusive father."

Sasha and Charles looked away. No doubt remembering what they were hiding beneath those fine clothes. Ruby already knew about the scars. Had seen them once or twice during the summer.

"I had to help." Master continued. "I offered her refuge, and she accepted."

 _Of course she did_ , Ruby thought bitterly.

"And this house heard laughter once again." Master smiled fondly at - ugh - his wife. "Then, one thing led to another. Love blossomed. And here we are." Master turned to his son once more, completely content. It both hurt and pleased Ruby to see that smile. Master deserved a woman who loved him truly, two children that called him 'Father' without asking for money at the end of a statement. Instead, he'd gotten...this. It was almost a blessing that Master couldn't see it.

"But you are my only true-blood relative, Oswald." Master told the young man. Oswald, in return, grinned sheepishly. There was a moment between the two men. Two who had found light at the end of a tunnel. Two who had only just met, but might as well have known each other for years. It was a father-son moment.

And Sasha didn't like it. Her champagne glass shattered in her fist. Everyone jumped, even the dog. Oswald gasped.

"Oh, my poor dear!" Master exclaimed. "Are you hurt at all?"

"No, no." Sasha smiled. Behind that simper, Ruby saw the remnants of a sneer. "I'm fine."

"Clumsy girl." Grace remarked. She, too, was hiding anger. Oswald seemed to sense that something was off, but did not know what to make of it.

Master did. He held up his glass. "To family."

Everyone echoed his words, Oswald with the most enthusiasm, and their glasses clinked. The 'family' continued to dine, and Ruby continued to watch with alert.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  


The days grew into weeks. The weeks, in turn, matured into months. Winter laid siege to the city, turning its polluted river into a brown-green path. Icicles hung from bare tree branches like fangs. The sky was almost permanently gray, going from silver in the early morning to unforgiving black each afternoon. Birdsong became a thing of the past. Every time the wind blew, it cut through the numerous layers of cloth people hid behind. Every five days or so, the snow that had been perfectly white until recently turned to brown sludge in the sewers. The next night, or close enough, a new layer took its place.

Such intense cold meant more work for the servants of the Van Dahl mansion, and more relaxation for its elite residents. Because each morning brought with it five new inches of snow, Sasha and Charles rooted themselves to the warm indoors and sent housekeepers out for anything they 'needed'. Twice Ruby had been forced to trudge through a blizzard to return Charles' library books (taking a few for herself in the process) and buying a pair of Prada shoes with Sasha's allowance. In addition, the more muscled members of the staff had to chop lumber regularly to feed the chimneys, and the maids had to sweep up the ashes almost hourly. Often enough, when the other servants weren't around, Ruby would go outside, take two axes, and sprout an extra pair of arms. By the end of her task, she would be sweating beneath her coat and a massive pile of wood would keep the fires going for three days.

As hard as it was, there was a light shining in the halls that hadn't been before: Oswald. He more than happily adapted to his new life, spending the morning with his father and the afternoons with Ruby. She hadn't asked him to. At first, she had even tried to shoo him away. But she might as well have asked the clouds to stop passing by. Oswald simply showed up, just a day or two after his arrival, and ask if she needed help. Somehow, he would always find her, whether she be peeling potatoes in the kitchen or ironing clothes in the laundry room. Eventually, Ruby accepted the idea that he wasn't leaving. She tasked him with a fifth of her chores.

During those quiet hours together, the two spoke. They exchanged questions, evading the subject of the past. Instead, they stuck to safe matters: favorite colors, films that they liked/disliked, and the weather. It was the most Ruby had ever spoken with a resident, even Master, and she silently looked forward to it. Oswald was wonderful company, always cheerful and ready to help. For maybe the hundredth time, Ruby wondered how the young man had maintained his innocence in such a wretched city.

One day, with the holidays come and gone, winter decided to have one last go at the city. Every window in Gotham was frosted, white as a blind eye, and the sky spoke of midnight even during dawn. Overnight, sidewalks turned to frozen cement rivers. Every moment spent outside was a battle between the warmth of one's body and the icy fists of winter. As a result, the servants had to work twice as hard to keep the Van Dahls comfortable. Especially Ruby, all the while hiding. She had just been deflating her extra muscles when laughter echoed through the halls, getting closer to where she worked. A moment later Oswald and Master waltzed in, carrying board games in their arms. Ruby's cheeks flushed with relief as she stood up. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious. Her hair was a brown-blonde-gray rat's nest. Her skin was glistening with sweat, and her uniform had damp patches beneath her arms and around her collar. Oh, and the ashes. She looked like Cinderella before any fairy godmother showed up. Still, she smiled and bowed. "Master."

"Ruby." Master's smile was warmer than any fireplace. His grin, however, quickly vanished when he looked at her state. "My God, dear, are you alright?"

"Yes, of course." Ruby smiled. Ignoring the fact that, even if she'd been lying in a puddle of her own blood, she would have claimed to be alright for the sake of not worrying him. "Thank you, Master. I deeply apologize for, well, this," She gestured to her disheveled self. "I've just been busy."

"Oh, dear, thank you." Master's smile returned, albeit with less force. Concern still darkened his inky eyes. "But are you certain you don't want a break? There are six other servants in this mansion, not just you."

"No, really, it's fine." Ruby didn't need to force her smile to widen. Master's worry moved her. He always treated his staff with kindness and respect. Not once had he yelled or snapped at someone wearing the uniform. The only time Ruby had seen Master grow angry at another servant had been caused by that servant stealing a silver spoon. Master always felt...fatherly. At least to her.

Ruby snapped back to reality. "Oh! Where are my manners?" She bowed again. "Would you two like some tea? Biscuits?" She winked at Oswald. "Or...caviar?"

Oswald's face lit up like a Christmas tree on steroids. "Caviar? Really?"

Ruby grinned. "I know a caviar-and-smoked-salmon recipe that will blow your mind." Master chuckled, patting Oswald's back, as the young man nodded like a bobble-head. "Yes! Yes, please!"

Ruby bowed a third time. "Your wish is my command." With that, she disappeared into the kitchen. Oswald watched her with half-closed eyes, his smile wide. Elijiah watched his son carefully. Recognizing his expression. Never disconnecting his eyes from the young man's face, he spoke. "A fine woman, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes." Oswald replied dreamily. But then his eyes popped open. Color broke out across his cheeks. "OH! Oh, I, uh...oh, dear." He turned away, rubbing the back of his neck. Elijiah grinned knowingly, resting his hand on the young man's shoulder once more. "Come," he said, "we have a card game to play."

* * *

Ten minutes later, clad in a fresh uniform, Ruby was at the kitchen's door. After scrubbing away two layers of dirt and practically drowning herself in perfume, she felt somewhat presentable. Was she? One pair of arms was holding a tray loaded with tea, sugar cubes, salmon-and-caviar, and milk. The other pair was adjusting her vest, hair, and jewelry. Today's choice had been a ruby brooch shaped like a rose. Hanging from her ears were a pair of carnelian gems, framed in copper.

They were both red. The color of passion.

Ruby stopped. Where had _that_ thought come from? Shaking it off, Ruby retracted her extra limbs. Smiling shyly. Before she could enter, however, Ruby had to make sure that she wasn't interrupting anything. Carefully, she knelt down and peered through the keyhole. Master and Oswald were seated at the sofa, laughingly playing card games. What was it? Go fish? Poker? To Ruby, they were all variations of the same game. But it warmed her heart to see them spending quality time together. When Oswald won a round, Master slid an arm around the young man's shoulders and hugged him. Ruby smiled softly. Waited for just the right moment, and finally found it. However, just as she leaned her shoulder against the door, footsteps clacked across the marble floor. Marching. Determined.

Ruby's good mood shriveled up like a daisy under ice. She remained hidden, eyes narrowing to slits.

"Elijiah." Grace's voice was firm and cold. Professional. "Brace yourself. I'm afraid we have some bad news."

'We'. It was always 'we'. Her and her two children. They worked off each other, blackening the next one's heart. The darkest type of union: one built on greed and corruption rather than trust and love. If Ruby had ever been forced to join herself with one of them...or, worse, all three...it was too awful to imagine. Ruby kept listening. Unable to tear herself away.

"Oh, dear." Master spoke, already prepared to help.

"Charles was at the public library today." Grace explained.

"Research for the novel I'm writing." Charles added. "I was reading some old newspapers and made an alarming discovery." Ruby had to resist the urge to burst into the room and call him a liar. She'd read some of his manuscript. He wouldn't leave her alone until she did, claiming that she seemed to be the only 'help' with a bit of brain in this house. It was a story centered on pirates. What insight could the newspaper provide?

That was when Ruby understood. This was all a ruse. An elaborate act meant to attack someone. And it couldn't be a servant. Grace had the power to fire them; she didn't because she was just too damn hooked on the luxury of _having_ maids. So what poor, defenseless animal did these vultures want to disembowel?

In a moment, Ruby understood. Her heart began to pound.

"My dear," Grace said, "Oswald's not the nice young man he says he is."

Ruby didn't move. Didn't breathe. Couldn't.

"If we didn't lead such sheltered lives here, we'd know what the whole world knows." Grace continued. Took a pause for effect. Then, came the sound of a newspaper being unraveled. "He's a notorious criminal. We've been sheltering...a killer."

The tray crashed to the floor. Antique porcelain shattered in a rapidly-growing pond of hot tea. The salmon-and-caviar spilled, wasted, across the tiles. Ruby hurried into the saloon, not caring that she'd just destroyed some of the utensils that the Master's parents had left him. Not caring that she was acting in the exact opposite manner as she was supposed to. She had to know.

Ignoring the surprised stares of the Three Stooges, Ruby snatched the paper out of Grace's hands. Held it close, to avoid missing anything. But it was hard to do so: there he was, on the front page. 'The Penguin'. Cold, calculating eyes. Inky hair slicked in a peculiar, pointy style. Dressed in a fine tuxedo. Ruby stared hard, trying to recognize the man in the photo. He was the same as the Oswald she was starting to know...yet he wasn't. Physically, everything was still there. But all of the kindness was completely drained from his being. Probably had been for a long time.

All of a sudden, it was hard to breathe.

Ruby stared long and hard at the photo before turning to Oswald. He was quickly becoming blurry. Everything was. Seeing her teary eyes made Oswald want to bury a hole, all the way to the Earth's core, and dive into it. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and let his head drop. Elijiah, however, was frowning thoughtfully.

Grace, on the other hand, was doing her best to avoid smiling. Seeing the plain Jane maid on the verge of tears was just the cherry on the cake. "We could have all been raped and murdered in our beds!"

"Raped _and_ murdered!" Sasha echoed.

Ruby sniffled. "Don't flatter yourselves." She muttered too lowly for anyone else to hear. Elijiah watched his handmaid. She was staring at her feet, dazed. Elijiah had seen a few people adopt her expression after receiving the news of a loved one's death. His heart went out to her, and not for the first time. Ruby was his most loyal servant, and he'd given her the most trust. She was obedient, hard-working, and knowledgeable in her working field. But beyond that, Elijiah knew that she had a good heart. A scarred one, pleading not to have old wounds ripped anew. "Ruby, dear," he spoke gently to the handmaid, "may you please pass me the paper?"

Ruby sniffled. "Y-yes, Master." Without looking up from her feet, she folded the newspaper and held it out to Elijiah. As her arm passed Oswald's face, he noticed something strange in Ruby's skin. Just above the sleeve, where her wrist and hand were exposed, her skin was rippling uneasy. He quickly seized Ruby's hand. The maid stiffened. Stared down first at the hand, and then its owner. Oswald's expression was nothing like the one in the image. It wasn't smirking with victory, but broken down. On the point of weeping...for what? Ruby didn't dare thing it was for her. Yet Oswald held her hand, cradling it between both of his. Ruby watched, stunned, as his face reddened. Tears filled his eyes. "Please..." He trailed off, perhaps unable to say more. Ruby didn't reply. But she didn't pull away, either.

Master, meanwhile, had been eyeing the front page with interest. He finally spoke up: "They call you the 'Penguin'?" He didn't sound angry or upset. Merely interested, like Oswald was showing him some report card from years ago. Oswald stared at his father with hopeful eyes before turning to the rest of his adoptive family. He rose from the sofa, still holding Ruby's hand. Ruby let him hold it, even though his own hand was sweating coldly. That was all the proof that she needed that, whomever Oswald had been in the past...that man had _stayed_ in the past. Ruby finally squeezed his hand. Oswald flashed her a quick, grateful smile before facing Grace and her children. "To be fair..." He gave a weak simper. "...I never raped anyone."

Ruby shrugged. That was something.

"Oh, now that's a relief, now isn't it?" Grace sounded so bitterly sarcastic that Ruby cringed.

Master spoke up. All heads turned as he...smiled. "My son has already informed me of his past, but he never said that he was famous." He turned to Oswald with a wolfish grin. "You're too modest, son!"

Ruby blinked. Oswald did the same, then smiled in relief.

Grace, however, wasn't so easily deterred. "Elijiah!" She snapped authoritatively. "You would let a dangerous murderer stay in our house?"

"It is the _Master's_ house, Madame." Ruby spoke before she could stop herself. "Paid for in _his_ name. Ergo, what he says goes." A part of her was screaming at her for talking out of place. She hadn't done that in a very long time, especially since Grace had moved in with her two atrocities. But now, something deep inside managed to block Ruby's fear like the moon conceals the sun during an eclipse. And now, looking at Oswald's grateful expression convinced her all the more that she'd acted rightfully.

For a terse few seconds, Grace looked simply shocked. It was like she'd forgotten that Ruby was capable of saying things other than 'Yes, Madame', 'No, Madame,' and 'Whatever you say, Madame'. But the surprise quickly melted into fury. "Be quiet, you!" Grace yelled. "You have no right to speak to me this way! Go back to scrubbing toilets, you're good at that!"

"Grace." For the first time in a while, Master's voice had a trace of iron in it. "That is no way to speak to another individual." His tone relaxed slightly as he continued, "Now, as for Oswald: you have no reason to worry. He's changed. Redeemed." He turned to Oswald. "You're not this man anymore, are you?"

"No, sir!" Oswald shook his head desperately. The tears had almost fallen. He glanced at Ruby. "Please. Believe me." Ruby answered by squeezing his hand again.

"How?" Grace stuttered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "How do you know?!"

"I've looked into his spirit," Elijiah smiled, placing a hand on Oswald's shoulder, "and I've seen his beautiful heart." He glimpsed at the newspaper again. "Still...intriguing! You shall have to share some of these tales with me soon, my boy." A single tear finally made its way down Oswald's hollow cheek. He smiled, nodding in agreement. Ruby tucked some hair out of her eyes, feeling bashful but strangely relieved.

Seeing that she had lost this round, Grace spun on her ridiculously high heels and clamored out of the room. Her two children trailed after her like ducklings. Once they were out of earshot, in the safety of the back entrance, Charles spoke up. "What now?"

Grace turned around.

"Yeah," Sasha piped up, "what now?"

Grace stared at her children. The ones for whom she had done all this. Her only true allies. She didn't smile as she spoke, but her eyes were shining. "Plan B." She announced. Charles and Sasha frowned, sharing a confused look. "What's Plan B?" Sasha asked.

Grace smiled. Stepped forward. Combed Sasha's silk hair out of her eyes. "You are, my dear."

Understanding dawn in the girl's eyes. Smiling seductively, she nodded. Basking in the glory of what she would do. By this time tomorrow, that black-haired maggot would be out of their lives forever.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The remaining afternoon, evening, and night passed by in a flash. Ruby went through it all on autopilot. She finished her chores. She received her week's payment of five hundred dollars. She returned from the bank just in time to serve dinner and clear up afterwards. Then, she joined the other servants in eating within the kitchen's warm, richly-scented walls. She shuddered as most of the others ate meat - chicken legs, turkey slices, or pork chops - and hid her face in her vegetable stir-fry. In the end, however, she could only consume half of it. The smell of meat was vile enough to rob her of her appetite.

Finally, she cleaned herself up, changed in her nightgown, and tried to go to sleep.

The key words being 'tried to'.

Ruby tossed and turned, trying every trick in the book to fall asleep. Counting sheep. Reading. Jumping jacks. All efforts were in vain. Nor did it help that, every time she closed her eyes, she kept seeing that malevolent smirk.

Ruby slapped a pillow over her face.

Oswald wasn't that man anymore. He'd said so himself, and he'd sounded as honest as can be. Not only that, but his entire body language had been honest. Oswald had been desperate to detach himself from his criminal self, pleading to be believed. And Ruby had believed him, as had the Master. That wasn't the problem. What was truly eating away at her was the question: who had he been before coming here? Apparently, he'd been a 'kingpin of crime'. But why? What had he done? And how had he suddenly become as innocent as a lamb?

Ruby lay there for a while. Contemplating.

That was when the creak of a door caught her attention. The maid twisted in her head, listening, as the soft thumping of footsteps reached her ears. Tossing the blankets aside, Ruby snatched her robe and left her bedroom. Stopping only to lock it, she ran down the steps as quietly as a mouse. Following the noises eventually led her to the kitchen.

Seated at the table was Oswald, wrapped up in the golden-black robe and sipping tea. Several damp tissue-balls sat next to his steaming mug. Even in the dim light, Ruby saw his bloodshot eyes. She was just about to leave when Oswald's eyes met hers. A sad smile spread across his angular face. "Hello, Ruby."

Seeing no way out of this, and strangely liking it, Ruby held up a hand in greeting. Her indigo eyes landed on the clock. "Oswald...it's two in the morning. If I may, what're you doing up?"

"Ah, I...couldn't sleep." Oswald wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "So..."

Ruby pressed her lips tightly together. Pushing some blonde-brown-gray hair out of her eyes, she gestured to the chair beside Oswald's. "May I?"

Oswald smiled. It was tiny, but genuine. "Please."

Ruby sat down beside Oswald. Close enough to feel the heat emanating from his body. She could feel her own cheeks catching fire. For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Oswald kept sipping his tea, sniffling every so often. The clock kept ticking. Other than that, the house was as silent as the dead. Ruby scratched her ear. Finally, she noticed three other mugs sitting in the sink.

" _Four_ cups of tea?" She inquired. "Not a good sign."

Oswalf sniffed. "I just...I couldn't stop thinking about what happened today."

Ruby winced. "Try not to worry." She tried, "They're very...caught up in themselves. All three of them. It's going to take them some time to get used to you."

"I..." Oswald's eyes filled with tears. He quickly covered them with his hands. "I know that I deserved it! But I...I never thought they'd be so brutal." His words quickly melted into muffled tears. Ruby hesitated as she listened to him cry. He sounded so inconsolable, so heartbroken, that it made her own heart bleed. She hadn't heard such sobbing since the Master's parents died. In that moment, Oswald didn't look like a former criminal. He just looked...tortured. Finally, Ruby went with her gut and placed a hand on his back. Oswald's sobs subsided a bit. Encouraged, Ruby continued to stroke Oswald's back and began to hum tunelessly. After what felt like forever (in a good way) but was really only a few minutes, Oswald's hand found hers. Ruby froze. Blushing like mad. Still looking down, Oswald spoke shyly, "...Thank...you. For your words, too."

Ruby got over her shock. Smiled and squeezed his fingers gently. They were warm, almost hot, from clutching the tea-heated mug. They eagerly squeezed back. Ruby raised her eyes to look at Oswald, who, in turn, was staring at her like she was...well, worth much more than she actually was. Those damn questions came back then. Asking who she was really holding hands with in the middle of the night. But at the same time, Ruby didn't want to scare him. He'd already suffered a blow today. And if there was anything she had learned, it was that there was enough cruelty in the world without needlessly throwing in more.

That was when she asked, "How would you feel to go someplace?"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Oswald and Ruby were trudging through the snow. _Crunch, crunch, crunch_. Their steady rhythm was all that could be heard. This far out in the countryside kept the ruckus of Gotham out. Only the most distant of sirens could be heard. As Oswald followed her, shivering beneath the thick coat, Ruby drank in the sights. Above their heads, the sky was obsidian velvet studded with diamonds. All around them were trees. Green, gray-and-green sentinels with theirs arms spread out. Every so often, Ruby caught sight of a patch of fireflies. Their feverish, golden glow was as bright as a lighthouse out here.

Ruby turned back to Oswald. He was shaking violently, and his pointed nose was as red as a pepper. Even from this distance, she could hear his teeth chattering like maracas. "Don't worry," she assured him, "we're almost there."

"C-c-c-c-couldn't w-w-w-we d-d-d-do t-t-t-this s-s-s-somewhere w-w-w-warmer?" He asked.

"Trust me," she said, "where we're going, it is warm."

Indeed, it was. Before long, they had arrived. The hand-made scarecrow in front of the entrance was a dead giveaway. Hanging around its neck was a sign reading, 'PRIVATE PROPERTY. DO NOT ENTER'.

Ruby walked right past the scarecrow and began to remove the debris. In Gotham, no matter how far away from the action they actually were, one can never place too much security.

"W-w-w-what're you d-d-doing?" Oswald asked, clearly disturbed.

"Getting this junk out of the way." Ruby explained. Just then, she picked up a boulder the size of a ripe watermelon. Groaning, she dumped it a few inches away. "Wow. There's got to be a better way at doing this."

"B-b-but it's p-p-private p-p-property!" Oswald protested, pointing at the sign.

Ruby gave him a look as she tossed another piece of rubble away. "I put that sign there."

Oswald simply looked confused now.

"Well, duh!" Ruby chuckled as she kicked the last of the debris out. "If people think that they could get into trouble for entering someone else's cave, then they won't. Plain and simple. Out here, people have a reputation to maintain." She finally stood aside, hand gestured to the dark corridor. "After you. And watch your step." Oswald stared first at the hall, then at her. His eyes were so big and trusting that it stung. Then, after collecting a breath, Oswald slowly made his way down. Ruby was quick to follow him. Along the way, she seized a torch that she'd hidden behind a stone. Flicking it on, she revealed her hiding place.

Oswald gasped.

A few feet below them was a small grotto, no bigger than your average camping tent. Inside were a few scattered items: dusty blankets, geology books, and, most impressively, precious stones. Not only on the floor, but embedded into the walls. Oswald stared, mouth agape, at the thousands of dark purple stones gleaming from within the earth. They varied from light lavender to a purple so dark that it was almost black. Whenever the light hit them, they cast violet glimmers on the ground. Oswald looked so funny, standing there with his mouth open, that Ruby couldn't help laughing. "Pretty, isn't it?" She hung the torch on its usual perch: a wire suspended from the ceiling. "Who would have thought that this area is so rich in amethyst?"

"How did you...? Where did...?" Oswald couldn't even get the words out.

"Some miners found this cave a few years back. But since amethyst isn't actually desired that much, they just shut it down." Ruby gestured for Oswald to sit on a pillow. He crashed in it. She sat down next to him. "So...one day, after they'd closed it, I came to explore. And since this is as far as they got, I decided to adopt this place. My home away from home, I guess." She reached for a plastic bag and undid the knot. Oswald hugged the coat tighter to his body, still looking around like a tourist who'd just seen the Grand Canyon. Realizing that he was still cold, Ruby kicked the radiator with her foot. With a clunk and a gurgle, it began to gently release warm air. Oswald sighed in relief. Ruby smiled, reached into the bag, and held out a candy bar. "Snickers?"

"Huh?" Oswald looked at the bar, then laughingly shook his head. "Oh, no, thank you!"

"I have Butterfingers, too." Ruby offered. "Or Hershey's, M&Ms, a jar of peanut butter-"

"Is it smooth?" Oswald asked.

Ruby scoffed. "Naturally." She tossed it to him, alongside a spoon. Oswald caught both expertly. Then, with no hesitation, he thanked her and began to dig in. Ruby smiled and took a bite out of her own snack. She waited until he'd gotten some peanut butter smeared around his face before she spoke up, "Um...can I...ask you something?"

Oswald smiled at her. The peanut butter mess crinkled around his mouth. "Of course!"

"Er..." Ruby swallowed. Hard. "Uh..." She held up her hands. "It's fine if you don't want to, but could you...tell me what you were like? Before, I mean."

Oswald grew silent. He hesitantly wiped his face clean, his eyes flickering from the amethysts to Ruby. Conflict cast shadows across his face. Ruby quickly looked away. "It's cool, you don't want to-"

"No, no." Oswald interrupted gently. "I...I want to."

Ruby looked at him. Surprised. Pleased.

For the next two hours, Oswald spoke. Every so often, Ruby had to toss him a bottle of iced tea to ease his tired throat. But other than that, she made no moves. Years of servitude had taught her how to blend it, to be quiet. She crossed her legs and rested her chin on her knuckles, absorbing every word. Even if some of those words gave her the shivers.

Oswald told her everything from his status as an errand boy to his snitching on Fish Mooney. From Jim Gordon sparing his life to Oswald's bloody way back. From his setting the Falcones and Carbones against each other, yet winding up hanging by his wrists at Fish's mercy. The gunfight. The brawl with Fish on the rooftop. Becoming the king of Gotham. Ruling. His run-ins with Theo Galavan, who threatened to kill Oswald's mother if he didn't kill Galavan's opponents in the mayoral election. Teaming up with...'friends'...to take down Galavan after the latter kidnapped Bruce Wayne. Oswald admitting to the murders, taking full blame to avoid any trouble befalling his friends. Getting out, certificate in hand.

"And..." Oswald spread his hands out. "Here I am."

Ruby didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then, she got on her hands and knees. Crawled towards Oswald and, before she could stop herself, threw her arms around him. Oswald froze, a gasp tearing from his throat, and Ruby hung on. She smiled against his shoulder and gently stroked his back. At last, Oswald relaxed in her arms and returned the gesture. "I'm...sorry you had to endure all that." Ruby said after a while.

"Are you afraid of me now?" Oswald sounded scared himself.

Ruby didn't answer right away. She just kept hugging him. Tried to understand her own sentiments in the process. After a long moment, she answered honestly. "Well...maybe a little. But I'm more afraid of the person you used to be than the one you are now." She didn't mention that, if he knew what she was, Oswald wouldn't even be here right now. He probably would have run away screaming. Just like all the others, except for Master. Ruby held out her hand, near the back of Oswald's head. She morphed it, changing the color and nail length as easily as one blinks. Then, returning it to normal, she squeezed Oswald in her arms. "All in all, I'm very happy and honored to serve you."

Oswald pulled away at that, looking her in the eyes. Fear gripped Ruby's heart with an icy, bony hand. "Ruby," he said gently, "I am...deeply grateful that you feel that way, and that you don't let me past trouble the present." He inhaled. "But I don't want you to just 'serve' me."

Ruby blinked.

"What I mean is," Oswald smiled bashfully, "you have been incredibly kind since I got here. You, and Father, make me feel at home. And tonight, you made me feel better. Ergo, I would like to ask if you would like to be...my friend?" Those last two words were so hopeful, Ruby felt awful for being disappointed. But she knew that Oswald was offering her a precious gift. More precious than all of these amethysts put together. That was why she felt warmth spread across her chest. She smiled. Nodded. "I would love to."

* * *

The two returned to the mansion shortly after that. A stray glance at the hallway clock told them that it was four thirty in the morning. The house was silent, bathing in the sounds of sleeping breaths. Ruby accompanied Oswald to his room. Stopped at the doorway. She gave a little bow. "Sweet dreams." She said.

In reponse, Oswald hugged her. Stroked her hair. Ruby's heart rate picked up, "Goodnight." He whispered. "It was one of the best nights in my life. And I thank you for it."

Then, he gently closed the door. Ruby stood there, smiling like a dope, before retreating to her own room.

* * *

She woke up two hours later, feeling more energized than she had in ages. Ruby leapt out of bed, grabbing her uniform and rushing to the nearest bathroom. In her haste, she didn't notice that the water was cold - the result of someone simultaneusly showering. Once she was out, Ruby dressed and applied some jewelry. Today, she picked a black pearl necklace, peridot earrings, and her favorite scarlet ring. It was a gem the size of a pecan nut and the color of fresh blood. It was also smooth as glass. Ruby had no idea if it was her namesake or not, and her grandmother hadn't spilled the beans. But it was still gorgeous.

A humming Ruby made it to the kitchen and swiftly prepared breakfast for Oswald. She would cook the rest later. Expertly, she brewed some herbal tea while the toaster ejected two perfectly golden slices. She poured some margaery, jam, and butter into three separate bowls, placing them near the toast. Next came an apple and a pair of scrambled eggs. Finally, Ruby stepped out into the garden and, with a quick apology to the plant, severed the most perfect iris in the flower bed. Placing it in a water-filled cylinder, Ruby took the heavy tray and shambled up the stairs.

She'd been ready to knock when a sultry, girly voice purred, "Good morning," from the other side of the door. Ruby went still. Then, unable to resist, she peaked through the keyhole. What she saw made her feel sick.

Sasha, clad in a short silk robe, was sitting on Oswald's bedside. Smiling down at him like a satisfied girlfriend. Oswald blanched at the sight of her. But a shy smile crossed his face immediately afterward. Ruby's words echoed in his brain. Perhaps Sasha was trying to rekindle their fractured sibling bond. This was very pleasing...as well as unexpected.

But Oswald wasn't about to look a gift-horse in the mouth. "Good morning!" He sat up, blinking in the bright sunlight. Sasha rose from where she sat. Drew the curtains. Sunshine streamed into the room like molton gold, chasing the shadows away. "I was hoping to spend a little time with you...Mr. Penguin."

A prong of discomfort mixed with Oswald's flattery. "Okay," he kept smiling, "but, um, please, call me 'Oswald'." He threw the covers aside and swung his legs over. The carpet felt soft under his bare feet. "I'm not that man anymore." Sasha kept standing there, toying with the chain of her robe. Sihlouetted against the bright curtains, she looked like some shadowy angel. Seductive. Beautiful. She smirked playfully. "There isn't a little bit of Penguin left?" She asked. "A little...bad boy?"

Calling his former self a 'bad boy' was like declaring a hurricane as 'a mildly windy day'. But of course Oswald didn't say that. More than anything, he didn't want to screw up his chance at repairing things with his stepsister. Though he couldn't deny his confusion. "No." He answered.

Meanwhile, Ruby was snorting like a bull ready to charge. All she could think was: what the devil was that bitch planning? Or, rather, what was her mother planning? No matter what happened, Grace was always the brains behind the operations.

"I got a little bad girl in me." Sasha undid the robe's knot. Beneath was most every heterosexual man's fantasy: a flat, smooth stomach, and breasts as ripe as seasoned peaches. All teasingly wrapped in black lingerie. Oswald could feel his pulse pick up. A strange heat began to simmer between his legs. Clearing his throat, he crossed them.

Ruby dragged her nails across a nearby walls. High-pitched whines erupted as fissures appeared.

Sasha, still revealing her mercandise, stepped close enough for her to hover over Oswald. "Whatever you've got planned for the old man, I want in."

"In?" Oswald, forgetting (mostly) about that body, frowned questioningly at Sasha.

"We could do great things, you and me." Sasha continued, sounding like a lady trying to sell passenger-by's perfume.

Oswald looked away, thoughtful. "I suppose-"

Sasha leaned forward and rested a hand on Oswald's knee. Cutting off his train of thoughts. "If you and me work together, we can have it all. We can squeeze my mom and brother out."

Oswald frowned innocently. "Why would we do that?"

"I dunno."

A second later Oswald was thrown back in the satin sheets. Breathing uneasily. The fire in his loins died in an instant. Sasha began to crawl on top of him. Her hair hung like vines on his body. "I guess we're just a couple of crazy, mixed-up kids."

Ruby seized the doorknob.

At the same time, Oswald slithered down from beneath Sasha's long limbs. He slid off the bed, spinning like a drunken dreidel. Hitting the floor, he scrambled to his feet and clutched the drawer. Sasha spun around, shocked. Ruby halted.

"Restrain yourself, woman!" He said breathlessly. "I am practically your brother! What're you thinking?" Even as he spoke cold sweat trickled down his face. For some reason, he felt ready to cry. Instead of answering him, Sasha simply tied herself up again and stormed out of the room. Oswald stared after her, jaw dropped. When Sasha saw Ruby standing there, smirking wickedly, Sasha flipped her off and treaded down the steps. Ruby sneered at her before quickly hurrying in the bedroom, knocking as she did. "Oswald?"

"R-Ruby!" Oswald steered around to look at her like a frightened animal. He quickly wiped at his leaking eyes. "God, I'm blessed to see you right now..."

"What happened?" Ruby asked, trying to push those images out of her mind.

"I...I'm not sure myself." Oswald looked like he'd just woken from a deep slumber. "I...I think I need to sit down." He all but crashed on his bed. Ruby placed the tray on the bedstand before sitting beside Oswald. He didn't look at her. Just stared off into the void. The maid watched, pursing her lips, before taking his hand. Oswald's eyelashes fluttered. He held tightly onto her hand.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  


Ruby remained with Oswald for a good chunk of the morning. She rubbed his shaking back, encouraging him to eat. But the shock of Sasha - _Sasha!_ \- trying to seduce him had robbed him of his appetite. Afterwards, Ruby ran a bath for him. She hadn't done this since the day of his arrival. But today, especially after what she'd witnessed, the maid felt a need to shield Oswald. Comfort him. Try to help him forget.

As the hot water rose, slushing this way and that in its porcelain confines, Ruby took one of the white roses from the vase. Ever since that first day, which Oswald had ended with warm thanks for her, Ruby had taken it upon herself to always keep his flower vase perfect. The blossoms never wilted, the leaves never browned. And they were always white roses. Like swan feathers, or snowfall. Pure.

One by one, a rose shed its petals beneath Ruby's fingers. They landed lightly atop the soapy waves. Smiling, Ruby tossed the stem aside and fetched a bottle of rosewater from the drawer. Glancing back at Oswald, she saw that he was shivering and hugging himself. Ruby nearly emptied the cylinder in the bath tub. Smiling to him, she gestured. "Your bath is ready."

"Th-thank you, Ruby." Oswald was clinging to his bathrobe as tightly as one would a coat in the middle of a blizzard. Recognizing her cue, she bowed. "Rest assured," she said, "Sasha won't get away with this." Oswald's eyes popped open. The maid had barely made it out of the bathroom when a cool hand seized hers. Ruby spun around to see Oswald's pale, anxious face inches from hers. "What do you mean?" He didn't sound angry; simply fearful.

Ruby covered his hand with hers. "What Sasha did was simply unacceptable. Once I tell the Master, she'll be put back in her place."

"No!" Oswald shook his head quickly. "No, please don't. She's practically my...my sister! If you tell, Father might misunderstand!"

"What is there to misunderstand?" Ruby demanded. "She literally stripped before you and jumped on you like a dog in heat! She almost molested you. Oswald," she softened her tone, and allowed herself to place a hand on the young man's face, "you are the only other person besides Master that I truly serve. If any harm befalls you, I have to nip the issue at the bud."

"But no harm befell me." Oswald subconsciously leaned into Ruby's hand. "Please. I...I'm sure that she was just confused. Really, it won't happen again."

"It'd better not." Ruby growled. Then, as the red glint in her eye began to fade, she took a moment to observe Oswald. He was staring at her earnestly. Desperate to get through to her. His eyes were moist, still bloodshot from earlier, and his skin was the color of fresh milk. In that moment, Ruby wanted to protect him more than anything. But, as always, duty vanquished over desire. Oswald was the Master's son. That meant that if he wished for her to do something, then she had no choice but to obey.

That was why Ruby sighed, nodded, and retracted her hand from Oswald's cheek. "Okay." She held her hands up in surrender. "I won't tell."

Oswald sighed. Smiled thankfully at her. "I truly appreciate this, Ruby. Really."

Ruby smiled in return. "I know. I can feel it." Oswald blushed in spite of himself. Ruby cleared her throat, suddenly aware of the mood settling in, and bowed. "I'll leave you to your bath. Oh! And I ironed your suit, too. It's hanging just outside the door."

Oswald grinned. "Thank you." Ruby winked before taking her leave, bowing all the way.

The young man watched after her, his cheeks still aflame, before the sweet rosewater summoned him. He shed his robe and pyjamas all too readily. He quickly stepped into the water, sighing before he even lay down. It was perfect: not too hot, but not lukewarm. Smiling, Oswald rested his head on the tub's rim. Watched the white rose petals glide across the surface like silky little sailboats. With every movement he made, he sent small waves against the porcelain. Thin wisps of steam rose from the water like ghosts at nightfall. Smiling contently, Oswald grabbed the bar of soap and got to work.

Scrub. Rinse. Scrub.

As he covered his body in white, sweet-smelling foam, Oswald began to think. Why _had_ he asked Ruby not to tell Father? This morning's event had scared the daylights out of him. Never in his life had he been in a similiar situation. Though Oswald had imagined it many times. However, he had never been able to decide if he'd wanted to partake in such an activity with a girl or a boy. Either one seemed thrilling, albeit in different ways. But were the two sexes really that different?  
Well, it didn't matter. What Sasha had done had startled him. Even if he'd been the young, sexually-curious teenager of over a decade ago, he might have still panicked. But Oswald still hadn't damned Sasha. She was still his family now. And she'd been so nice to him since his arrival. True, she hadn't been as open and warm as Ruby, but she had still been pleasant. What had gotten into her head?

Well, it wouldn't happen again. Oswald could feel it. Must one really be judged for one lapse in kindness? If that were the case, he'd have been crucified long ago.

Oswald sighed, leaning his head back. His thoughts trailed back on the night before, and his doubts were washed away. Ruby knew everything now. He had withheld this information for so long, fearing that those kind smiles and friendliness would vanish if he revealed himself. But no. Ruby had listened, nodded occasionally, and actually hugged him at the end of it.

Oswald didn't realize he was crying for joy until the gentle plics reached his ears. He moved to wipe his eyes, then had a better idea. Closing his eyes, he plunged beneath the perfumed waters.

* * *

Ruby yawned, rubbing her eyes, as she collected the breakfast trays. Master was still sipping his coffee, reading the newspaper. Thankfully, Grace and her two ugly ducklings had already eaten and gone out shopping. Those three never wasted a chance to spend their abundant allowance. Master, on the other hand, always took things slow. He had...limited time, yes, but that didn't mean that he was going to hurry up. Old habits die hard.

Ruby yawned again.

Master glanced up from the papers. "My dear," he said gently, "are you alright?"

"Oh, yes, of course Master." Ruby bowed. "I just...I'm sorry, I...didn't get much sleep last night."

In a moment, Master was giving her all his attention. His inky eyes locked with hers. Above them, his bushy eyebrows met in the middle. "Oh, I'm sorry." He reached out and gently took her hand. "Is it the night terrors again?"

Ruby swallowed. "Those appear often enough, it's true. But," she shook her head, "no, not this time. I was...up, mostly."

Master gave a weak, mischievous smile. "Did you go to the library again? Or polish your jewels?"

Ruby shook her head, smiling back.

"Then," Master's eyes twinkled, "is it my son?" He might as well have slapped her in the face.

"Oh, God!" Ruby dropped the cup that she'd been holding. It began its rapid ascent to the hardwood floor. Ruby, without thinking, stuck her tongue out. It stretched out five feet long, and curled around the mug.

Shit. Ruby, whose face was on fire, turned to the Master. He was still smirking at her. Now, he seemed to be holding back laughter, too. Blushing furiously, Ruby retracted her tongue. But not before setting the mug on the table. Swallowing, wincing at the cold taste of porcelain, she muttered. "Sorry. The power...it thinks ahead of me, at times."

"No need to apologize, dear." Master assured her. "I find you an amazingly quaint young lady, power or not."

Ruby smiled, moved by this.

"Now," Master rested a hand on his cheek, "did anything occur between you two last night?"

"What?!" Ruby shook her head so quickly her vision blurred. "No no no, of course not! That would be irresponsible, and unethical! No, we just talked. Nothing more."

"Talked?" Master repeated coyly. Clearly teasing her.

"Yes. Talked." Ruby could feel steam bursting out of her ears. "Yesterday's events...well, they upset him. I heard him around here last night, and joined him for tea. That's all, I swear it." She realized that she was talking faster by the second, but she couldn't help it. All she could think about was Master convincing himself that she'd done something and-

"My darling, I believe you!" Master interjected, cutting off her thoughts. He smiled at her dumbfounded expression. "Ruby, I have known you for years now, and your record is spotless. I know you would never do anything inappropriate."

"No, sir." Ruby shook her head vigorously. "Never."

"But..."

Oh, God. Why does there always have to be a 'but'?

Master returned her eyes gently. "I have seen you two interact, and I can see a bond blooming."

Ruby blushed.

"All I ask is this." Master took her hand again and squeezed it. "Do not make the same error I made. Do not ignore your chance of loving." Master was deathly serious. Ruby could tell. Relief and nervousness intertwined within her. Master stared deeply into her eyes. "Do this, and I promise that I shall never punish you for that." Ruby didn't realize that she'd been on the brink of tears until her vision blurred. Keeping herself together, she bowed her head. "Thank you, Master." Master, in turn, smiled and let go of her hand. His expression grew concerned. "Now, you say that Oswald was upset last night?"

"Yes." Ruby nodded, grateful to change the subject. "Madame Grace...she pushed him too far."

"Ah, I know." Master nodded. "Grace can be difficult, but she is merely looking out for her loved ones. In time, she will accept Oswald."

Ruby knew better than to argue. Rather, she steered them in a different direction. "Why don't you two go get tailored suits together? You know, spend some father-son time together."

Master's face lit up like a birthday candle. "My dear, what a splendid idea! Of course, once Oswald comes down, I will propose the idea at once!"

That was when the footsteps resounded from the staircase.

* * *

Opera music streamed from the record player. Crackled in a comforting way. The sun's harsh rays were barred entrance by the blinds. The room was cool, smelt faintly of mothballs, and was all filled with fabrics. This was, in a sense, Elijiah's wardrobe. All of his finest suits were kept here, as were the fabrics that he kept aside for when he required more. A personal tailor was almost always there to fit him out. But today, it wasn't Elijiah who stood atop the stool, but Oswald. Surrounded by mirrors and fitted into a new jacket, he could barely contain himself.

"Do you like the fabric?" Elijiah asked. "It's Italian." He added with a proud flourish.

Oswald grinned. "I _love_ it."

Elijiah patted his son on the back, still making sure the jacket fit right. "A man can say so much about himself by what he wears."

"I couldn't agree more." Oswald nodded earnestly.

Elijiah returned his son's smile before whipping out his magnifying glass. Peering at the stitching to ensure its perfection. When he was indeed certain, he looked up at his son. "I weep for today's casual youth." Gently, he took Oswald's thin shoulders and steered him towards the mirrors. Oswald lost his breath when he saw himself. He was wearing a beautiful, forest-green fabric that shimmered in the light, as though emeralds had been crushed and mixed in with the threads. Beneath, he wore a striped button-down shirt, a black vest, and dark pants. He looked nothing like the kingpin of crime. He looked...normal. Happy.

And he was.

Oswald reached for the hand resting on his shoulder. Squeezed. Elijiah returned the gesture with gusto. "I'm so glad Ruby suggested we do this. It's been so long." Oswald blushed faintly at the mention of the maid and nodded in agreement. He kept examining himself and, more importantly, his father right behind him. His father. The man he'd been wondering about his whole life, turning out to be the gentlest man on God's green earth. What he wanted more than anything was to save this moment, encapsulate it and keep it in his heart.

Behind him, Elijiah began to cough. It went from horrifying to heart-stopping. He hunched over, hands on his knees. Oswald spun around, grabbing his father's shoulders just as the older man's knees gave out. He crashed in a chair, and Oswald with him. "Father?!" But there was no answer. Panic fizzed in Oswald's gut like bubbles in a Sprite bottle. "Help!" He shouted. "Someone, please!" Tears filled his eyes. "Call for an ambulance!"

* * *

His shouts soon reached the ears of Grace. Frowning, she quickly hurried to her children. They'd been lounging, but the moment they saw her face, they rose.

"What did you do to Elijiah?" Grace demanded urgently. Sasha and Charles shared a clueless look before the latter answered, "Nothing!"

"HELP!" Oswald's shout crashed down like a shot bird.

"Coming, my dear!" Grace replied in a phony sweet voice before turning to her kids. "Clean up this mess. Call the doctor!"

* * *

A little while later, Elijiah's bedroom was as sombre as a funeral. The man of the house lay in bed, clad in clean blue pyjamas and drinking water. Ruby stood nearby, a jug of icy water in her hands. Her hair had been combed in front of her eyes to hide her tears. Grace stood idly by. The doctor, sighing, collected his things and rose. He faced Oswald, who had been knotting his tie for the past hour. The doctor's eyes were as flat as chunks of glass. "His condition has gotten worse." He said, getting right to the point. "The hole in his heart has gotten bigger, and now there's an infection."

In that moment, Elijiah coughed. Ruby quickly reached out and stroked his shoulder. Refilled his glass.

"I've given him antibiotics, but they'll be of little consequence." The doctor continued. "It's time for him to get his affairs in order. He may not have long." Oswald stared at him, wide-eyed. Stubbornly, the man's words did not change.

Ruby seemingly hiccuped. He turned to her.

"I..." Ruby set down the jug. "I have...to go." Her voice cracked. "I'm sorry!" She ran out of the room. Oswald's heart went out to her. He wanted to run after her, but his love for his father anchored him here. He nodded and thanked the doctor. Elijiah gave the man a passing, blank look. Grace stroked his hands, seemingly thoughtful, before saying, "I'm going to have them make you some nice chicken soup. You need your strength."

"How kind." Elijiah smiled lovingly at his wife as she rose and collected stray items. Oswald stood there, unable to speak, as the tears threatened to fall. Elijiah saw this, and his own heart lurched. He held a hand out. "Come here, my boy." Oswald obediently lurched forward. Sat down on the side of his bed. Elijiah smiled gently at the young man, trying to soothe the pain in his heart. "Don't listen to doctors, son. I've proved them wrong so many times, I've lost count." Oswald laughed in spite of himself. Wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "You and I will have many more years to spend together. Trust me." The way Elijiah watched him then, with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips, would have given faith to even the most stubborn of cynics.

"But perhaps," Elijiah spoke to Grace, "we should call my lawyer, dear. There are a few things I'd like to go over." He looked at Oswald as he spoke. "Much has changed in these past months."

"Of course." Grace smiled. "I'll have him right over." But the moment her back was turned, her smile turned into a sneer.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
Ruby had thought that her life had simply stopped before. Not over, exactly, just halted. Like walking down a long, twisted path only to find a brick wall waiting at the end. She had thought she'd reached that wall for most of her childhood, when she'd look in the mirror to find a more horrific version of her within the glass. She'd thought she had arrived when her parents had dumped her at Arkham. They had even paid a fortune to put Ruby at the top of Dr. Strange's priorities. Many times Ruby had felt dead-ended during the countless chemical baths, injections, and electro-shock therapy sessions. And her return home had felt like the worst blunder of all. But no. Life had gone on.

Until now.

The maid lay on her bed, hiding her face in her pillow. Her tears, hot and salty, dampened the fabric. Animalistic sounds were tearing from her throat. Her eyes stung like they had bees in them, yet she couldn't stop. She wept until her tear ducts shriveled up, and then some more. Ruby clutched at her chest, trying to reach her heart. Trying to stop it from breaking.

There came a gentle knock on the door. Ruby ignored it, still hiding in her soaked pillow. Until a gentle voice emerged from the woodwork. "Hello?"

Ruby stopped. Slowly, like a bear awakening from hibernation, she rose from her bed. Her back muscles complained at the movement, at the release after being tense for so long. She sat up, sniffling. Other than that, she didn't move. There came another knock. "Ruby? Are you in there?"

"Oswald?" Ruby wiped her eyes with both hands. "W-what're you doing here? Why aren't you with your father?" Just imagining poor Master, sick and surrounded by those three vultures, made her skin crawl.

"Father's asleep now, but he assured me that he's alright." Oswald didn't seem certain himself. "We are meeting tonight for a pre-dinner drink."

For a moment, Ruby forgot her pain. She imagined Oswald trying to drink anything alcoholic. He would probably shudder as it slid down his throat, then belch. She giggled behind her palm. But then, reality slammed back in. "Um...so he's...?"

"Please," Oswald asked, "will you let me in? I don't want to speak to a locked door."

Ruby blushed. Hesitated. No one had ever entered her attic bedroom before. She always locked it before leaving, and often right after entering. It was the place she ran to for peace and comfort when the amethyst cave was too far away. All of her treasures were in here. Everything she owned in the world.

Could she really let someone in?

But it wasn't just 'someone'. It was Oswald.

Swallowed hard, Ruby called, "Okay. One second." She glanced at her reflection. In short, she was a mess. Her short, curly hair, which was always wild, looked like she'd stuck her finger in an electrical socket. The little mascara she'd put around her eyes had streaked her cheeks black. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Her clothes were rumpled. Only her jewelry was presentable.

Ruby took a deep breath. With a sleeve, she wiped the mascara off her cheeks. Once they were clean, Ruby fell back on a method that went beyond soap, water, and make-up. She stared hard into the mirror. Focused. As she watched, her hair adopted some form of order, falling around her head in brown-gray-blonde curlicues. All of the pinkness faded from her eyes. Then, with a quick straightening of her clothes, Ruby reached out. Her arm's bones elongated as she looked, closing the gap between her and the door. As easily as if she'd been standing there, she twisted the key in its lock. As the doorknob shyly began to turn, Ruby quickly retracted her arm. The bones had barely reclaimed their normal length when Oswald's face appeared. It was gentle and worried. And tear-stained.

Ruby stopped. Watched.

"Are you alright?" Oswald stepped inside. Gently closed the door behind him. "Um, you...ran off rather hastily."

Ruby hung her head. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No, no!" Oswald held out his hands. "I-I don't mean to reproach. I was simply concerned."

Ruby blushed without looking up. "Thank you, but...I'm not worth it." She hugged herself. "I'm just a servant. A scullery maid."

"You're also my friend." The bed creaked. A weight plunged into the blankets. Ruby stilled. He was close enough for her to feel his body heat. To smell his sharp cologne. Ruby risked a peek. His body was tilted towards hers, his eyes on her face. Ready to listen, to comfort...whatever she might need. Ruby was both embarrassed and touched. She wiped her eyes before the fresh tears could fall. Ruby could feel the illusion resisting against her hold, like a fierce dog tugging at a leash. She could already feel the clearness of her eyes vanishing, going back to being bloodshot.

"And...I'm grateful for it. Really." Ruby glanced up, this time without looking back down. A soft smile stretched across her face. "I...well, I never had the chance to have friends." She paused. Hugged herself. "I was...alone, for a good chunk of my life. Master saved my life."

Oswald scooted a little closer to her. Ruby's heart hammered against her ribcage. "I know what you mean. He gave me a family. Love. If something really did happen to him, I..." He stopped. Swallowed so hard Ruby could hear it. Without thinking she reached out. Wrapped an arm around Oswald's waist and pulled him close. Oswald automatically did the same. Their heads touched. The two of them sat like that for a while afterward, silent and in thought. Oswald replayed the doctor's words, and Ruby thought about the coughs and sick days. How they'd been growing in frequency for years. The two of them pondered over what might very well happen, but didn't speak.

Talking of it would have made it real.

Finally, the sun began its descent across the heavens. The sky bled profusely, the sun a giant ember. Chills began to wiggle their way through the walls. Vapor spread across the window. Ruby shivered, and Oswald tightened his hold on her. The evening's duties began to whisper in her ear. She closed her eyes, savoring this moment, before speaking up. "I'd better start getting ready."

"Oh." Oswald sounded disappointed. "O-of course." He started to pull away when Ruby took his hand. He turned around. Ruby was staring at him with bloodshot eyes. "I need you to do something for both of us."

Oswald smiled. Curled his fingers around her hand. "Of course."

"Be with Master now." She said immediately. "And later, too. Every moment you can, cherish him. I'll try to do the same." Even though her position severely limited what she could do. She licked her lips. Sighed as her heart bled. "Oswald...we can't stop the clock. Whatever will be, will be. But what we can do is enjoy every moment we can with Master. Otherwise, we'll regret it until our last breath."

Oswald nodded slowly. "I intend to do exactly that." He paused, then added. "I...I loved my mother with all my heart. She was the only family I'd ever had, and I did my best for her. When she died..." A single tear dribbled down his hollow cheek. He wiped it away. Inhaled shakily. "I felt like a part of me had died, too." A faint crack of a smile. "Then Ed came along. Picked up the pieces and put me back together."

Ruby smiled. "Yeah, you've mentioned him. He sounded...cool." If one could turn a blind eye to his strangling his own girlfriend, that is. But of course Ruby didn't say this.

"He was." Oswald agreed. "I...I miss him."

Ruby felt an irrational, two-pronged fork of jealousy pierce her heart. Forcing herself to smile, she nodded. "We're always leaving people behind in life. And sometimes, they're leaving us behind."

"Indeed." Oswald nodded, rising. He turned back to Ruby and, almost subconsciously, stroked her cheek. Goose-bumps spread across Ruby's skin. She smiled. "Thank you." Oswald whispered. "You're a wonderful friend."

With that, they said their goodbyes. The door closed. And Ruby lay down on her bed. Smiling and crying at the same time.

"Master," she whispered, "if anything happens to you...I'll protect your son." She held up her hand. Watched the nails grow long and sharp. "No matter what it takes."

* * *

That night, Oswald did as both Ruby and his own heart wanted. He returned to his father's bedside. He helped him dress into formal evening attire, and they spoke of many things. That afternoon's medical blunder remained beneath the surface.

The two men played three rounds of chess. Oswald won the first, but his father floored him afterward. Master rung for Ruby, who, at his gentle request, lit a fire for them in the saloon. She paused once her duty was finished. Stood there, fumbling with her apron.

Elijiah noticed this. "My dear," he spoke softly, "are you alright?"

Ruby didn't answer. Then, she simply stepped forward and threw her arms around him. Elijiah automatically rested his hands on her back. The hug lasted no longer than half a minute, but it meant the world to both of them. Ruby pulled away. "I apologize. I just..." She inhaled. "I just...got quite the scare today. And I'm relieved to see you reverted to your old self."

Elijiah looked touched. "My dear, you have nothing to apologize for." He winked. "Now, go on. If you want, you can relax this evening. Surely another maid may aid us at dinner."

Ruby stared at him like he'd offered her a million dollars. "Truly?"

"Truly." Elijiah smiled. "All I ask is for the family sherry." He gestured to Oswald. "He has yet to taste it, and every self-respecting Van Dahl must at least try it." Oswald blushed deeply at the compliment. Ruby noticed, and smiled. She bowed. "Of course, Master. I'll be back in a jiffy." With that, she was gone.

* * *

Charles slapped on a pair of rubber gloves. A scarf was tied tightly around his lower mouth. His eyes were set on the task at hand.

He, Mother, and Sasha had all agreed. Oswald was nothing but trouble. They'd only tolerated him until now because he'd seemed harmless, and they'd expected to nevertheless have the fortune within arm's reach. True, their recent attempts at defaming him before Elijiah had gone up in the tubes, but _c'est la vie_. He was such a pathetic loser, it wouldn't take long for him to slip up. Or for Elijiah to die. Mother had been replacing his heart medication with mints since Day One, and the hole had gotten bigger. Given the doctor's words, the money was as good as theirs.

Then, Elijiah had mentioned his lawyer. That was the last blow to crash the tree.

Oswald had to go.

Charles hadn't taken long in whipping up the ticket to their sucess. A simple toxin that causes immediate death to whoever absorbs it. In addition, it is difficult to trace. It has no taste, odor, or color. Perfect.

Carefully, Charles tipped the beaker into the bottle's nuzzle. He watched the liquid trickle down, mixing with the Van Dahl sherry. Elijiah couldn't drink because of his health. The servants were forbidden from touching the residents' food. If they wanted to eat, they had to bring or buy their own. All Charles had to do, thusly, was tell his sister and mother to avoid it. Sooner or later, Oswald would drink it. No loose ends.

Finally, the last drop plopped into the sherry. Charles snickered as he straightened, peeling the gloves off. Carefully, he slipped the cap back on and put it back in its place.

"Hey!"

Charles spun around. The head maid was standing in the doorway, arms as crossed as her expression. Her foot was tapping impatiently. Charles masked his surprise with a smug look. "What, out of clothes to mend or something?"

"Or something." Ruby shoved past him, collected the sherry, and took two shot glasses alongside it. Charles watched her work, thinking. She and Sasha had been at each other's throats since the beginning. Of course, Ruby had never done anything outright violent. She loved her job too much for that. But Charles could still see it in those indigo eyes. Ruby hated Sasha. And him. And Mother. Yet she was powerless to express it.

That was reason enough to provoke her. Charles deserved a little fun after doing his job so well. "You know, Ruby, I pity you. I really do."

"Ah?" Ruby didn't even turn around. "Good." She replied breezily. Not really listening.

"I mean, how must it feel to adore a man who doesn't give a crap about you?" Charles asked. "To serve him so devotedly, to hang on his every word, knowing you're completely replaceable to him."

Ruby didn't answer. Kept her eyes away. But her body had stiffened. She swallowed hard. "Enjoy your evening, Master Charles." She began to walk away before stopping. "Oh, and by the way, please deliver a message to your sister." Now, Ruby _did_ face Charles. Her round, chinless face was as hard as marble. "If she **_ever_** repeats the stunt she pulled this morning, I will not hesitate to discipline her." A slight bow. "Good evening, Master Charles." She turned around, sherry and glasses in hand.

Charles snapped out of his shock to grab her by the hair. Ruby cried out as she was jerked back. Charles' face appeared inches from her own, red with anger. "Don't you dare speak to me that way!" He shouted. "You certainly can't threaten my sister!" He shook her like a puppet, using the hair in his fist like a string. "You'll get canned for this! See if you don't, _bitch!_ "

Grace suddenly entered, a cocktail in her hand and a shocked expression on her plump face. "Charles!" She snapped. In an instant the young man let go. Ruby was gone not a second later. Charles stared at the empty doorway, shocked, before turning back to his mother. "Mom, she threatened Sasha! She said she'd 'discipline' her." He used air-quotes. "What if she's onto us?"

"What does it matter?" Grace asked. Her eyes were as cunning as a vixen's and thrice as dangerous. "She's nothing but a scullery maid. She cooks, cleans, and waits on those worth far more than her. Who would possibly believe her, even if she did suspect something?"

Charles snorted. "Elijiah, duh!"

"Elijiah will be out of the picture soon enough. Right after his sniveling little bastard." Grace assured him. Both her face and tone hardened. "But if you give him any reason to doubt us - like yelling at his most loyal servant - then everything we've worked so hard for will go up in smoke!"

Charles pursed his lip. "Okay, Mother. Sorry."

"Oh, honey." Grace gently stroked his cheek. She might have said more when a scream erupted from the saloon. Oswald's.

Charles frowned. "I don't get it." He said. "The poison shouldn't have left him _time_ to shout."

That only meant one thing. Mother and son bolted towards the shrieking.

* * *

Oswald knelt on the floor, cradling his father in his arms. His body was shaking almost as badly as Elijiah's. Between his ears, all of his thoughts were a-tumble. Confusion and pure terror tightened in his chest like twin snakes. All he could do was cry and watch, helpless, as the white foam dribbled out of Elijiah's mouth. Elijiah stared up at him, pleading for help, for answers. Oswald could give neither.

Ruby was crouching on the other side of Elijiah's body. She was trying to get a pulse, some visible cause...anything. Her hands were frantic and her head was shaking quickly. Tears were streaming down her face like two waterfalls. "NO!" She kept yelling. "Master! Please! _Please!_ "

Oswald looked up, desperately, at the sound of footsteps. Sasha and Grace appeared like guardian angels. Grace's face lost all color as her eyes landed on the sherry. "Did..." She pointed. "Did he drink that?"

"Yes!" Oswald exclaimed.

"Why?!" Grace demanded. "He's not supposed to...Sasha," she placed a hand on her daughter's arm. "Call an ambulance!"

Elijiah's low moaning increased in volume. More foam spilled. Ruby's hands tore away from his body. They instead covered her mouth as sobs forced their way out. Oswald cried out, hugging his father tighter. As if doing so would anchor his father's soul to his world.

It was then that Charles appeared. Sharing a glance with his mother, he quickly knocked over the bottle. Most of its contents spilled onto the floor. Steam rose where the liquid fell.

"Stay with us, Father." Oswald pleaded. "Help is on the way!"

But his father could no longer hear him. Or see him. He was too far away for that now.

Oswald stared, open-mouthed at his father's stilled face. Just for a second, he remembered holding another parents in his arms. Seeing the light fade from their eyes. His heart tore in half as he screamed to the heavens. Ruby didn't hesitate to grab him and pull him in a tight hug. Oswald desperately returned it, like a drowning man being tossed a rope. He clung to Ruby as if letting go meant death. He buried his face in her chest and wept uncontrollably. Ruby cried with him, keeping her eyes closed. If she looked at the dead Master, she knew that her sanity wouldn't survive.

The two cried in each other's arms for hours afterwards. Saving each other from falling into the cracks.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
John Steinback once said, "It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone." He was right. When someone you love dies, you indeed feel as though a light has been extinguished from deep inside your heart. Each moment that you are reminded of that loss, some stray ember sears into your chest. Reminding you that this door has closed forever. That he or she is gone, and will never return.

Ruby was reminded of Master's death everywhere she went. In everything she did. When she polished the silver, she would recall Master coming up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders, and squeezing them with approval when he'd see her handiwork. When she mended the clothes, she realized with a sting that Master would never wear what she was fixing again. It would never absorb his body heat, nor shield his body from the elements. As duty compelled her to aid Grace in preparing the funeral, she had to hear her beloved Master being called 'the body'. It made her want to tear her hair out. When she waited on Grace, Charles, and Sasha, Ruby would constantly stare at the empty chair at the head of the table. She would then look to Oswald for comfort, only to see that he wasn't there. She'd always set up a tray for him, only to find it the next morning. Untouched.

On the sixth night, Ruby had had enough. Instead of simply leaving the tray to be ignored outside the door, she knocked before letting herself in.

"Please go away." A muffled voice called.

Ruby stopped. Stared. To put it simply, the room was a mess. It had a nasty, closed-in smell, like unwashed hair. Clearly, the windows hadn't been opened in days. The curtains were drawn and clothes littered the floor. The lights had been dimmed drastically, offering shapes to vision but nothing more. There, just outlined atop the bed, was Oswald. Lying face-down in the blankets, his hair resembling a porcupine's.

Oh, God. Ruby closed the space between her and the bed. "Oswald?" Gently, she placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. Shook a little. Oswald shuddered. Twisted up. "Father?" He looked up at her, blind in both ways. Ruby's eyes teared up. "No." She hugged herself. "I'm not. And I'm sorry." Oswald's face, which had looked hopeful for a split second, crumpled like wet newspaper. He lay back down. As Ruby watched, he curled up in a fetal position. "Ohhhhhhhh..." He moaned painfully. Ruby sat down next to him. She reached out and rested a hand on his head. Oswald stilled. Then, he leaned into her touch. Ruby began to stroke his inky hair, letting her fingers trace his face every now and then. She could already feel that he'd grown thinner in this week alone. It made her want to cry almost as much as Master's death.

She was about to speak when Oswald did it for her. His voice was croaked and raspy. "I dream of it every night. Of him in my arms, dying just like Mother did." He sniffled. "He was right there. I was holding him. And then, he was...no..." He broke down in fresh sobs. Ruby's hands moved to his sides. Being as careful as possible, she transferred his head to her lap. She kept stroking his hair. "There's nothing you could have done." She said sadly, but truthfully.

"I could've done anything!" Oswald wailed. "I would've given my life for his!"

Ruby grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in a sitting position. His pale, tear-streaked face gaped at hers. "Oswald," Ruby said calmly but firmly, "you must never think like that. Master loved you dearly. He never would have wanted to hear you say something like this." She reached out and wiped his tears away. Oswald's icy-blue eyes stared into hers, shining with emotion. Ruby took a deep breath and spoke. "I miss him, too."

Oswald blinked. "Really?"

"Of course." Ruby nodded. "He took me in, all those years ago, when no one wanted me. I miss him every day, and I think about him all the time." It hurt so much to be speaking like this, but it felt good, too. She wiped her own eyes. "But...he's never coming back."

Oswald's face crumpled again. He lurched forward and wrapped his arms around her. Ruby responded naturally, resting a hand on the back of his head. Oswald broke into fresh tears. Ruby never wavered her grip. She let him cry, shedding silent tears of her own. Minutes morphed into an hour. Then, one and a half. Finally, Oswald sniffled. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "Sorry."

Ruby tried to smile. "What're you talking about?" She joked. "You saved me from washing the dishes." Oswald sighed shakily and held her closer. Ruby rubbed his back before pulling back. "Now," she pushed some bangs out of his eyes, "will you please eat something?"

Oswald slowly nodded. "Alright. But...nothing too rich, please."

Ruby gave a weak smile. "How about peanut butter?"

Oswald returned the simper. "Smooth?"

"Smooth."

Twenty minutes later, Ruby brushed the cracker crumbs from the bedspread. Then, she lit some incense and scattered the sticks across the room. As Oswald watched from an armchair, Ruby changed the sheets. Finishing the brief clean-up with a glass of cold water, she turned back to him. "It's late." She said softly. "And tomorrow is...the funeral." That last word dragged her heart down like a stone. "You should sleep." She bowed. "Goodnight, Oswald." Just as she was about to leave, however, Oswald's cool hand closed around hers. Ruby turned, wide-eyed with surprise. Oswald was staring at her with the kind of innocent fear one would expect to find on a child. His eyes were huge. His lower lip was trembling. "Please," he swallowed, "I...I don't want to have another nightmare tonight."

Ruby blinked.

"Would you..." Oswald looked down, embarressed. "...sleep here with me tonight?"

Ruby gasped. Just for a second, she wasn't in this room anymore. In this time anymore. She was back in that alley, nearly a decade ago, pushed up against a brick wall. She could still feel her body, half-frozen from the rain. She felt that thug's brutish hands tearing at her clothes while holding a switchblade against her throat. Then, searing agony and shame.

"I...please don't misunderstand!" Oswald said, seeing the look on her face. "I don't want to...do anything. I just..." He let go of her hand. Hugged himself. "I need company, lest I go mad."

Ruby pursed her lips. Indeed, ever since that night his 'family' had had less to do with him than usual. They never directly looked at him nor spoke to him. They hadn't even mentioned his absence at dinner...at all. Oswald's grief meant nothing to them.

Pressing her lips together, Ruby nodded despte her heart's pounding. "Alright."

Oswald looked as relieved as a man lost in the desert being offered a glass of water. "Wonderful!" He straightened, wiping some stray tears away.

"On one condition."

Oswald stopped.

Ruby pointed. "You eat everything on that tray."

Oswald sighed, but nodded. "Very well."

* * *

Half an hour, Ruby stood before her bed. Perfectly made. It would stay that way in the morning, too. The thought felt strange, like cancelling a dinner date at the last moment. Lying on the covers was everything she would need: her pajamas, a robe, slippers, and an alarm clock to wake her up at the crack of dawn. Usually, she didn't need it. Being in the attic, facing east, hers was always the first room to see daybreak. But tonight was a whole different story.

Ruby's hands trembled uncontrollably as she tugged her uniform off. She tried not to see her reflection as she changed. There were no physical scars to remind her of that night. There had been, once, on both her inner thighs. But a ton of expensive cream had erased those ugly marks. Even so, tonight Ruby felt that they were still there. Or, worse, may be reborn.

Ruby shook her head. She was being ridiculous. Oswald was as sweet as a lamb. He would never do something like that. Hell, he'd said it himself: _"I never raped anyone."_ So, if he hadn't done it when he'd been the Hyde to his current Jekyll, why would he now?

Besides...she trusted him. Maybe not enough to tell him her secret yet. But enough to show him her secret place, lend him her jewelry, and allow him to tag along during her chores. That was more trust than she'd given anyone outside of the Master. Since...well, since her disgusted parents had left their deformed daughter at Arkham.

Ruby's hand crept beneath her pillow. Extracted the photograph. Held it up against the moonlight. Even now, it disgusted her. It was a full body shot her from nine years ago, twelve months before she would meet the Master. In the picture she was almost naked, save for white cotton underwear. And it was a horrific sight to behold. Her skin was discolored and bloated, like a fungus, with hideous boils running along her face and neck. Many of these boils leaked blood and pus. The veins in her eyes had burst, staining her scleras dark red.

Funny. Back then, she had only _looked_ like a monster. Now, many would call her an _actual_ monster.

Swallowing hard, Ruby folded the photo and tucked it in her pajama's pocket. Grabbing a blanket and the alarm clock, she hurried out.

* * *

Oswald had already extinguished the candles when Ruby arrived. It wasn't the only welcomed change. For one thing, the open windows gave the room a crisp coolness. All of the clothes had been put away. The tray was empty, with the fork and knife placed strategically next to each other on the plate's center. Ruby took all this in with a small smile. She turned to the bed. Moonlight spilled from the parted curtains, falling upon Oswald's dormant face. His skin was like fresh milk, and his hair was as black as night. Even as he slept, he looked beautiful. For the first time, Ruby noticed the freckles crowding around his nose. That somehow made him cuter.

Cute or not, though, this was the moment.

Ruby took a deep, silent breath before walking towards the bed. Rather than getting under the covers like Oswald, she lay atop the bedspread. Doing otherwise would have been both unethical...and traumatizing. Ruby lay on the side, stiff as plywood, waiting for something to happen.

It did. Oswald seemed to immediately sense her presence. Moaning softly, he twisted around under the covers. Ruby froze. Scarcely breathed. Still sleeping, Oswald lay on the other side and lay a hand on Ruby's abdomen. Shivers spread across Ruby's body. Electrical. She remained immobile. Oswald, on the other hand, scooted closer to her and hugged her middle, burying his face between her shoulder blades. Ruby was hyperventilating now, verging on panic. _Please_ , she kept thinking, _please, don't go further, please, please ple-_

"Thank you." Oswald sighed near her ear. Ruby relaxed a bit. Leaned her head against the pillow and tried to close her eyes. As she did, she realized that Oswald was humming. And crying. Dampness sank into her nightgown, reaching the skin. Ruby reached down and seized Oswald's hands. Squeezed them. Oswald's crying lessened, but the humming did not. Ruby fell asleep to the sound of it, and that night dreamed of her dear, dead Master.

* * *

The next morning dawn clear as a bell. Burnt orange rays cut through the drapes, painting the ceiling. Sleepy birdsong gently ascended. Vapor clouded the window's glass, slowly fading.

Oswald slowly opened his icy-blue eyes. Everything was blurry for a second, his senses imperfect. But with a few blinks, shapes reclaimed their sharpness. The rising sun granted the return of color. Like the pale peach of Ruby's face, currently tinted orange by the new light.

Oswald gasped. Jerked away. His heart hammered against his ribs, only to slow down once reality sank in. Ruby was curled up on her side, facing him. Lying atop the covers rather than under them, she slept steadily. Dried tearstains sparkled in the new day's light. Her short, curly hair spread across the pillow.

But there was one detail that Oswald noticed above all others: that his hand was nestled between both of Ruby's. Blushing deeply, he gently pried it out. Ruby's fingers twitched, grasping at nothing, before stilling. Oswald inhaled deeply, wondering what to do. Why hadn't the alarm clock resounded? Had it broken? Ruby should have been up by now. And yet...he wasn't ready to let her leave. Not yet.

As if somehow hearing him, a sleeping Ruby sighed and shifted closer to him. The top of her head rested on his side. Oswald felt electrical wires dancing beneath his skin. At this closeness, he could smell her peach conditioner and the soap from her pajamas. She was warm. And lovely. Without the shadow of a doubt, Oswald lay back down. Draping an arm across Ruby's shoulders. In a few minutes, he was sleeping again.

* * *

Eventually, Ruby's alarm clock did ring. Nearly an hour late, that is.

The Van Dahls' yelling snapped the two friends out of their dreams. Ruby and Oswald barely had time to say goodbye before time urged them forward. Oswald showered, put on his finest dark suit, and combed his hair back. Then, as an afterthought, made his own bed. Ruby didn't need anymore on her plate.

Indeed, after a rushed shower and nearly ripping into her black dress, Ruby hardly had time for her morning duties. First, she served breakfast to all three Van Dahls. Thankfully, the cook had been kind enough to have prepared it beforehand. Then, she quickly washed the dishes from the night before and took out the garbage. Such duties were hers, and not even a special (albeit awful) situation like this could change that.

It got even worse when the three demanded she help them get ready. Like a bunch of bloody five-year-olds.

"Will you get _on_ with it, already?!" Sasha snapped as Ruby slipped the other's girl's coat on her. "The funeral is just an hour away!"

Like you care. Ruby bit her lip. "Don't worry, Miss." She promised, smoothing out wrinkles in the fabric. "We'll be there in a jiffy. The church is just around the corner, after all."

" _We?_ " Sasha echoed with a smirk. "Oh, I guess Mother forgot to tell you."

Ruby stilled in the act of straightening Sasha's collar.

Sasha met her eyes in the mirror. Her own were like frozen gems: beautiful, but utterly unfeeling. "We've decided this funeral should be a family only thing."

Ruby froze. She felt as though she'd just been kicked in the gut. "What?"

"You heard me, freak." Sasha spun around, facing her fully. In her expensive coat and dress, complete with the onyx necklace and the perfect hair. A princess confronting a pauper. "You. Can't. Come."

"But I served him faithfully for eight years!" Ruby protested. "I was by his side when he died. I was his most loyal servant!"

"And we're all very grateful." Sasha rolled her eyes, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Look, you should already be happy we're bringing the emo pipsqueak along. If you get the same treatment, well, you'd inflate your ego."

Ruby's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "The 'emo pipsqueak' is the Master's only trueblood relative. The Master said so himself."

"Yeah, well, 'the Master' isn't here anymore, is he?" Sasha laughed. "And good riddance, I say. The old fart outlived his welcome." A second later she cried out. Riby's hand was clasped over her wrist like a manacle. Tight and solid. And growing tighter still. "Listen to me very carefully," Ruby hissed, "it's only because of Oswald, and his soft heart, that you and your repulsive family, haven't been kicked out. He begged me not to tell the Master, though I sorely wish I had."

A flash of understanding flickered behind Sasha's eyes. Then, she slipped on a mask of ignorance. "What're you talking about?"

"I know what you tried to do." Ruby tightened her hold even more. "And if you **_ever_** try again-"

"What in God's name is going on here?" Both heads turned to see Grace in the doorway. In her long, modest black dress and veiled face, she was the very image of widowhood. Sasha tore her wrist free of Ruby's grasp and ran to her mother. Hid behind her like a frightened animal. Ruby scowled.

Grace glared at Ruby in return. "You're in mourning, which is why I'll excuse you...this time." She said. "We're leaving now, and I want this place spotless by the time we get back." Sasha smirked and stuck her tongue out at Ruby from behind Grace's shoulder. Ruby shuddered with anger but was forced to bow. "Yes...Madame."

The clouds quickly cleared from Grace's face. Smiling, she nodded her goodbyes and took Sasha by the arm, escorting her out. Ruby heard the front door opening. Without thinking she bolted forward. Didn't stop running until her eyes found Oswald's. His eyes told her that he knew...and he liked it even less than she did. Oswald limped forward and took her hand. "I am so sorry," he said earnestly, "but..." He faltered, unable to say more. Ruby tried to smile. "It's...the way things are." She told him sadly. "Just...say goodbye to him for me. Please?"

Oswald gave a sad simper. He nodded. "Of course."

"Oswald!" Grace called. "Come on, the driver's ready!"

"Oh," Oswald flushed. Twisting his head to look back, he called, "Coming!" When he turned back, he found Ruby tucking something into his jacket's breast pocket. When her hands pulled away, the object gleamed in the light. A white rose. Oswald's eyes watered as they locked with Ruby's. She, too, was struggling to keep her emotions reigned in. She very nearly failed when Oswald brought her hand up and gently kissed her knuckles. "I'll be back soon." He promised.

"And I'll be waiting." Ruby promised back.

Minutes later, the door was closed. Ruby was alone. And the Master was gone. Unreachable, even in death. Ruby fell to her knees and broke out in tears.

* * *

The funeral was a small, sombre affair. The priest made a prayer for Elijiah's freed soul. He spoke of the man's life, of the good he'd done, of the friends he'd made. There were occasional nods from the ten or so attendants, as if in tune to a song only they could hear. Sasha played with her hair. Charles examined his fingernails. Grace did her best to look interested. Oswald, seated at the very edge of the pew, sobbed hysterically throughout the entire funeral. People shot him looks that ranged from sympathetic to annoyed. Oswald didn't see them. All he could see was the gleaming mahogany coffin, surrounded by lillies, that contained his last family.

When it was all over, he limped towards the coffin and knelt in front of it. At least, it felt like he did. Oswald could very well have crashed in front of it. Everything felt so hazy, unreal, as if he was the ghost watching over them rather than his dear father.

Oswald sniffled. "Father..." He wiped his eyes. "First...Ruby says hello...and goodbye. She's very sorry she couldn't be here, but..." He broke off, inhaling shakily. "She loved you very much, Father. I could see it. She worshipped you. You couldn't have had a more loyal servant." Talking about Ruby eased his pain, if only slightly. The pain came back, full-force, once he got to his own sentiments. "Father, I only knew you a short time. But you came to me when I was alone in this cold, dark world." The sobs bubbled in his throat. Streamed down his cheeks. "You gave me a family." His voice broke. "And I will never forget you...as long as I live." He broke down once again, squeezing his eyes shut. The pain was almost too much to bear. To much for a single person to hold. "Oh, Father." He moaned softly, mournfully.

Sasha rolled her eyes. Grace and Charles shared a bored glance.

At last, the funeral was over. The priest led the people out, single-file, like a teacher guiding her students out for a field trip. Oswald limped somewhere in the middle, carrying a bouquet of lillies in his arms as if it were a newborn. His 'family' trailed behind him. "What a bore." Sasha sighed.

"Yes, but the house is ours now." Charles smirked. "And we're rich."

The two siblings chuckled.

"Quiet!" Grace hissed.

Oswald spun around and crashed into Grace, hugging her tightly. She froze as though she'd just received a faceful of mud. Oswald hugged her, oblivious, as he struggled against the tears. "He loved us all so much." He sighed sadly, yet lovingly.

"Indeed." Grace replied neutrally. "Er," she tapped Oswald's back, "Oswald? Oswald!" He pulled back, wiping his nose. "As painful as this is, we need to talk practicalities." Grace explained. "Can I call you a cab, or will you take the bus?"

Oswald frowned in confusion. "I don't understand."

Grace stared at him as if he were mentally handicapped. "Well, you're not coming back to the house with us."

Oswald froze. His insides quickly turned into ice. His thoughts strayed to that wonderful old mansion, where his father had spent his life. Where Ruby awaited.

"Where shall I go?" He asked, trying not to sound too desperate.

"Anywhere but there." Charles piped up.

"Oswald," Grace masterfully regained control of the conversation, "I'm so happy that you and your father reconnected, but he left the house and the estate to me and, well, I'm simply not comfortable sleeping under the same roof as a notorious murderer." She was all too happy to push past him. Her children trailed after her. Oswald watched them, his family, so eager to leave him behind. In a matter of seconds, he felt like a man in quicksand. All he could do was try to find himself a rope.

"But I'm not like that anymore!" He shouted after them. "I-I couldn't hurt a fly, even if I wanted to!"

The three Van Dahls continued to walk away. His door was closing.

"Please!" His voice echoed throughout the church. Scared and tearful. "My father was all that I had. We share the same blood and..." He inhaled shakily. "And he wanted us to be together. He told me!"

Grace slowly turned around.

Oswald grasped this thin thread of chance. "Let me stay!" He begged. "I'll do anything!"

Grace walked back towards him, ignoring the shocked expressions worn by her offspring. "You _are_ his blood." She agreed, "We _do_ need help around the house."

Oswald blinked and smiled. It was the desperate simper worn by those brushed by death. A single thought passed through his head: _I almost lost them both_.

"Mother!" Sasha and Charles both declared.

Oswald's smile widened as Grace turned back to her children. "Why waste good money on servants when we have Oswald?"

"I'll do anything!" Oswald repeated, reassuring both his stepmother and himself.

"You can start by getting rid of those disgusting flowers." Grace smirked. "I've always detested lillies."

Oswald paused. "Oh! Uh..."

Grace quirked an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Oh, um..." Oswald swallowed. "I...intended to give them to Ruby." Sasha and Charles shared an amused glance. Grace thought about it for a moment before shrugging. "Fine. Give them to the scullery maid. They suit her." Not understanding the true meaning behind her words, Oswald nodded in agreement before limping out of the church.

Grace turned to both her children.

"You're not really letting him stay?" Charles asked incredulously.

"He's Elijiah's only natural son." Grace argued. "If he found the right lawyer, he could make things very difficult for us. Especially if people look into how his father died."

"So we just live with him, then?" Sasha snapped.

"Yeah, we keep him close." Grace replied. "And after a suitable amount of time, poor Oswald will be overcome with grief and take his own life." She smiled. "Until then, we have a free servant. I'll fire the maids. Including..." She winked at Sasha, who immediately grinned.


	12. Chapter 11

**Here's another chapter! I would love some reviews. Thank you forevermore to Kakkorat is Cake. If it hadn't been for your kind reviews, I probably would have quit by chapter 4.**

* * *

Chapter 11  
  
The family returned home reinvigorated despite their mourning clothes. Oswald trailed after them like a lost puppy. Clutching the lily bouquet in his hands like a life preserver. He was shaking all over, unable to think straight. Every time he tried, his mind took a step back and went around in circles. That was why he sat out most of the car ride in silence, and not only because he'd learned from Ruby that servants aren't supposed to speak unless they're spoken to.

That's what he was now. A servant. Just like last year, when he'd carried Fish Mooney's umbrella and considered it an honor.

This was an even greater honor. He got to keep his home, his family, and the memory of his father. And Ruby. For what? A few household chores? Easy as pie.

Finally, the limousine parked behind the mansion.

"God, finally!" Sasha complained, slipping her high heels back on. "I seriously need a bath. Yo, Oswald." She lightly smacked the young man's shoulder. "Burn these damn clothes, will ya?"

"Of course!" Oswald nodded. As the Van Dahls climbed out, Oswald took a moment to savor the landscape. Winter was finally beginning to break its hold on the world. Patches of lime-green grass dotted the horizon like freckles. The icicles were melting, and the ponds looked less like chunks of ice. Spring was coming. Renewal.

"And don't forget to say goodbye to your friend, Oswald." Grace called over her shoulder. "I've decided to fire her."

Oswald's head snapped back towards his stepmother. "What?!" He quickly limped towards her, leaving crooked prints in the soft snow. Grace stared at him, surprised that he would even speak. "But-but why?!" Oswald asked. "She's done nothing wrong!"

"She threatened Sasha right before we left." Grace gestured to her daughter, who nodded in agreement. "And any servant who mistreats my children shall be cast out."

"I'm certain she didn't mean it!" Oswald begged, hugging the flowers tighter to his chest. "Ruby's good! She would never disrespect you!"

"She just did." Charles interjected. With a steely voice he continued, stepping towards Oswald. "Be grateful we're allowing you to stay. But if you stick up for her, we'll throw you out, too. Without thinking twice about it."

Grace elbowed Charles, annoyed at his disregard of the plan. Still, she had to admit that he had a point. They had alreasdy permitted him to remain here, and that was only because it could work to their advantage. Besides, he was too stupid to figure it out for himself. Ruby, on the other hand...she knew this mansion better than they ever could. She might find something.

Oswald swallowed hard. Looked down. Grace smiled and petted his head, much to her disgust. "Good boy." She said. "Now, get our baths ready. I'm sure we all want to rid ourselves of the stench of death."

Oswald nodded and turned away. Limping through the door, he held the flowers close. Tears beaded in the corners of his eyes.

* * *

Ruby saw them coming from her bedroom window. Grace and her two disgusting offspring walked as one, like a human wall. Oswald lagged behind, almost like...like a servant, walking three steps behind. The maid frowned, putting down the jewels that she'd been polishing. Wiping the mist from the window, she leaned closer. She saw them severely tell Oswald something, while he apparently pleaded. Ruby saw their lips move, but couldn't hear a thing. When Oswald lurched away, he looked ready to burst into tears.

Ruby bit her lip. God, what had those personified insults to decency done now?

Well, no matter. It wasn't like Oswald would give her a clear answer anyway. For some reason unknown to her, Oswald still wanted to establish a bond with these half-wits. Have the family he never could.

Ruby rubbed her temples before rising. Whatever the reason, he would need some cheering up. And she had just the remedy in mind.

Closing her eyes, Ruby focused on her body's zillions of cells. Breaking, renewing, healing, and procreating. All coming apart at the exact same time. Keeping her eyes closed she felt her body soften like heated wax. Quickly becoming formless, Ruby slid between the dusty floorboards. Bits of her dripped onto the floor below. They did the same thing, this time puddling on the kitchen's polished tiles. In a matter of seconds, they regrouped and reformed. First, her feet appeared. Then, her shins and calfs, still covered with black leggings. Her cells climbed atop each other, like bricks forming a tower. A deformed shadow fell across the floor, stretching with every second. Becoming more human. Soon, the last jigsaw piece fell into place.

Ruby opened her eyes and stretched. Sighing with relief. Then, she looked around for her prize. "Where did Cookie put it?" She wondered aloud, opening and closing cupboards. Ruby even peered into the fridge, to no avail. Grimacing at the raw porkchops, she quickly shut the door. "A harmless, intelligent animal," she muttered to herself, "killed for no good reason. And some say _I'm_ the monster." As she scoured the broom closet and - why not - above the fridge, Ruby decided to have a sip of the sherry herself. She needed it to combat the nausea.

Finally, just as she was on the verge of giving up, Ruby's hand found something beneath the silverware. Something smooth and glassy. She grinned. "Bingo." Carefully, she pulled out the bottle and held it up for inspection. It was about half-full. Strange. Oswald had said that Master had only drunk a shot glass's worth, and before then, it had been nearly full. Ruby brought the bottle close to her eyes, inspecting it closely. Something was off about the color as well. It was normally a pale gold, like certain brands of champagne. Now, it was tinted green. Ruby remembered reading something about exposure to air could cause this chemical reaction. But why now, and not other times?

Ruby's mind grinded to a halt. Her mind flashed back on that terrible night. Hard not to, she thought of little else these days. But now, she was examining it from a whole new angle. She thought back on the exact moment that the Master started...well. It was moments after he drank the sherry. Until now, Ruby had thought that his heart had simply given out. In that moment, she hadn't cared to discover the cause. She'd just wanted it to end. Now, though...

Ruby closed her eyes. Tried to stay calm. She couldn't allow herself to panic. What she needed was evidence. And she refused to kill a household plant to do it, or the dog for that matter. That left only one thing.

Taking a deep breath. She yanked the cork out with her bare fingers. Steeling herself, she brought the nuzzle to her nostrils. Immediately she sneezed. A horrid smell climbed it way down her throat. Pulling the bottle away, Ruby set the bottle down. Then, without much hesitation, grabbed a kitchen knife and brought it down on her pinkie. The bleeding digit dropped onto the counter, leaving a crimson trail behind it. Ruby watched, undeterred, as a new one grew in its stead. Wiggling her new digit experimentally, Ruby stared at the old one. It had lost the shape of a pinkie. Now, it was...constantly change. One minute, it was a cube. Then, a mace. Next, a ball.

Ruby took the bottle and gently tipped it over the bit of morphing flesh. Once the liquid made contact with it, a disgusting odor filled the room. The stench of meat being boiled. Steam rose into the air, momentarily blinding Ruby. Coughing, she set the bottle down and stepped back. The wall hit her spine. She stood there, coughing and sneezing, as the smell began to fade. As it did, her mind began to race.

Even though it'd been disconnected, that bit had still been part of her. A fragment of a human body. And now, it was a puddle of white foam.

That was when all of the mosaic pieces fell into place, forming the ugliest picture in the world. As well as the clearest. Ruby squeezed her eyes shut. But the tears came all the same. She leaned her head back, silently crying, as she cursed herself.

Why? Why couldn't she have foreseen this? Why didn't she try harder to convince the Master that that woman would be the end of him? Why hadn't she suspected Charles when she'd seen him right here, hovering over the bottle, less than an hour before the Master would drink from it?

Simple: because she'd never thought it possible. Ruby had detested the Van Dahls since their first moment here, true, but she never would have thought...this.

Well, no more.

Ruby sneered. Willingly channeled her sorrow into anger. Her left hand tightened into a fist. The right stretched out, grabbed the cork, slammed it back into the bottle, and took the whole thing away. Keeping the bottle as far away from her person as possible, Ruby marched. Following the sound of laughter. Laughter of triumph. Ruby's blood boiled in her veins.

It didn't take her long to find the three lounging in the tea room, splayed across the priceless velvet couches. Refreshments, varying from expensive wine to cheese, covered the coffee table. Ruby seethed at the sight. This tea room had been one of the Master's favorite places to recieve close friends. Everything, from the walls to the furniture, was painted some form of purple. On Ruby's first night here, he'd personally served her tea in this very room. She'd been seated right where the widow was now. "Ah," Grace looked pleased to see her, "if it isn't Red-Hot Ruby. You can apologize to my daughter now."

"We'll see." Ruby tossed the bottle. Charles caught it instinctively. Once he got a good look at it, however, his face went three shades paler. Ruby crossed her arms. "Recognize it?" Charles didn't answer; his expression did it for him. "Then," Ruby raked some hair out of her hot, teary eyes, "are you going to tell us what it is?"

"It's..." Charles turned to his nervous-looking sister and Mother. "The sherry."

"Tell them." Ruby ordered tersely. "Tell them what you did."

Charles swallowed. He looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Allow me to fill you in, then." Ruby took a step closer. Her skin rippled across her muscles like caged snakes. "You poisoned the sherry."

* * *

Oswald searched the mansion relentlessly, like a hound searching for a fox. He kept an eye out for Ruby's black apron, for her curly hair or gentle eyes. All in vain. In desperation he set the lillies in a water-filled vase outside of the attic bedroom. Imagining her face when she saw them and cringing when he considered what would happen soon after.

Ruby would be fired. She would be forced to leave. And Oswald would lose the closest friend he'd had in...his life, really.

It was only then that Oswald heard shouting. Feminine. A chill ran through him. Was it Grace? Or Sasha? Screaming at him to come down and satisfy some request? Not wanting to disappoint he ran towards the voices, going as fast as his hobble allowed. Soon enough, he found himself outside the tea room. He stopped at the entrance when he realized that it was slightly ajar. Against his better judgement he peered inside.

Ruby was standing before his family, looking flustered yet unbelievably angry. She was standing with her back to him, but he could feel it. She was radiating rage as an oven does with heat. Her hands kept clenching and unclenching at her sides. "What I'd like to know is...why?" She asked, sounding strangely calm.

Charles turned to Grace, who shrugged. He reverted his gaze to the maid. "Ruby, you're grieving. You're confused."

Oswald turned just in time for Ruby's explosion: "YOU POISONED THE MASTER'S FAMILY SHERRY!"

Oswald gasped.

"I only do what my mother tells me to!" Charles protested, not knowing why he'd bothered. He'd barely got the words out when Ruby snapped. "If she told you to murder the man who's been sheltering you for years, then your mother is _evil_."

A deathly silence fell over the room like a shawl. Charles and Sasha glared at Ruby like they wanted nothing more than to flay her alive. She returned the feeling, times a hundred. Only Grace seemed calm. She knew how this would all turn out. "'Evil' is a rather strong word, Ruby." She stated calmly. "I'm just trying to be a good mother, not queen of the world."

But Ruby wasn't listening. Couldn't.

"I _loved_ that man," she said through tears, "more than I did my own parents! He was **_good_** , he was **_kind_** , and YOU KILLED HIM!"

Oswald covered his hand with his mouth. Confusion and grief battled behind his eyes, pressing against his skull like rain-bloated worms. Tears streamed down his hollow cheeks.

Back in the tea room, silence still dominated. Sasha and Charles seemed to sense that something was wrong, like rabbits hearing a faint noise right before the fox swept them up. They instinctively inched closer to their mother, who instead looked incredibly calm. She chuckled at Ruby's flushed face, at her fists and tears. "That's quite the story, girl," Grace said, "but I doubt anyone would believe it. Especially because it's not true."

Ruby crossed her arms. Tried to keep her form under control. "Oh, yes? Then who slipped that venom in the sherry? One of the other servants, just for a laugh? Hell, did I do it myself?"

"Nobody poisoned the wine." Grace said calmly, rising to her feet. "Calm down. You're just confused." She took a step towards Ruby. The maid, in turn, stepped back. Her body screamed at her to unlock the gate. To let it thrive, take on new forms and kill with them. But Ruby only tightened her hold. If she let loose now, she would only cause damage. Grace, seeing the rage dwindle in those dark blue eyes, smirked. "This brings me to the next matter at hand."

Ruby glared at her.

"You're fired."

Ruby froze. She felt as though her insides had been ladled out with a giant wooden spoon. The maid stood there, unable to move, before finally remembering to breathe. "W..." She swallowed. "What did you say?"

"Did I stutter?" Grace asked. "Go up to your room, pack your bags, and get out. I don't want you in my house a second longer."

"It's not your house." Ruby growled. "It rightfully belongs to Oswald. Any half-decent lawyer in the city would agree with me."

Oswald placed a hand on his chest, moved beyond words.

"And who do you think they're going to listen to?" Grace asked. "Me, the woman who just won billions, or you? The plain Jane with no name or family? What would you pay him with? Those jewels you love so much?"

Ruby opened her mouth, then closed it. Grace nodded sweetly. Stepped forward until their faces were inches apart. "You see, Ruby, your voice has absolutely no importance here...or anywhere, really. You could disappear forever, and nobody would give a damn."

 _I would_ , Oswald wanted to say but didn't. Still hiding behind the doors.

Grace continued, loving the way Ruby's expression broke. Oh, yes. She'd found the girl's weak spot, and she was going to exploit the hell out of it. "And the man you claim you 'loved'...cared nothing for you. The only reason he kept you around was because he pitied you." She put on a mocking tone. "Oh, poor, sad little Ruby! Abandoned at Arkham at eighteen and raped just a year later! Such a poor, unfortunate soul."

"He told you about that?" Ruby's voice cracked.

"He told everyone." Grace lied. "From his best friend to his barber. So, yes, I was slightly wrong earlier: he kept you around because he pitied you...and found you too entertaining to send away. And I can guarentee that if it were Oswald running this place, he'd adopt the same idea. If he hasn't already."

 _That's not true!_ Oswald would have shouted had he not been so frightened.

A single tear slid down Ruby's cheek. She knew that it had to be a lie...surely...but the idea of it being even remotely true was like drinking arsenic to her.

"I, however, prefer more...sophisticated humor." Grace smiled. "Now, why don't you be a good madwoman and go put your belongings together?"

Ruby turned around and bolted towards the door. She rushed past Oswald, not even seeing him, and flew up the steps. She didn't intend to pack. She didn't intend to do anything other than lock herself in her room. Her only haven. Her sole ally. She didn't stop until she reached her door...where the lillies awaited. Ruby froze, tears streaming down her face.

"I hope you like them."

Ruby twisted around to find Oswald there. His expression told her the truth. She tried to stay strong for about three seconds. Then, her knees gave way from under her. Oswald caught her just in time. They sat on the floor together as Ruby wailed, muffling her sobs in Oswald's coat. Oswald held her close, rocking her from side to side and whispering nothings in her ear. Ruby held onto him tightly, as if to convince herself that he was really there. Eventually, her tears subsided and she looked up at Oswald. "Do...do you...?"

"Of course not." Oswald wiped her eyes dry with his sleeve. "You're my friend, Ruby. Nothing will change that."

Ruby knew that he wouldn't be saying that if he knew. But to him, those words were true. Sighing, exhausted, she leaned her head back on his chest. Oswald kept holding her, feeling strangely at peace. Just for a moment, he remembered holding his mother in a similar way when Maroni revealed the truth about Oswald's 'job'. Not for the first time, he felt a pang of sorrow for his mother. His only prayer was that she'd reunited with Father now.

But until he found out, there were other matters to discuss.

"Ruby..." Oswald gently detached the maid from his body. "What you said was very serious."

Ruby, still blotchy-eyed and red in the face, stared at her friend as if he'd lost his reason. "But it's true!"

"How do you know?" Oswald asked calmly, hoping not to turn the waterworks on again.

"Because the sherry was a different color." Ruby replied, wiping her nose. "And it smelled awful. And I saw Charles in the kitchen the night Master..." She stopped. Unable to say it. Oswald swallowed. He gently gripped her shoulders. "Ruby, maybe Grace is right. You're hurt and confused, and you want to blame someone."

"No." Ruby shook her head. Reached out and cupped Oswald' cheeks. Her hands were cool and moist. "Oswald, I swear. I swear on everything that I hold dear. They _killed_ him." Seeing the unwavering doubt in his eyes, Ruby tried a different strategy. "Try the sherry yourself. Or have someone else try it."

Oswald frowned. "What?"

"If whoever drinks it turns out fine, then woe is me. I'll grovel at their feet, beg for forgiveness, whatever. But I won't do that until you-"

"No, Ruby-"

"Please!" Ruby brought her face close to Oswald's, tearing up again. All objectives died in the latter's throat. He saw the desperation, the utter conviction, in those bloodshot eyes. They were too pained to be ignored or denied. "Please, Oswald." She gently stroked Oswald's cheeks. "I'm asking you to trust me."

Oswald swallowed hard. His heart pounded at a thousand per hour. Finally, he began to nod. "Okay. I'll try it." Ruby closed her eyes, relieved, and rested her forehead against his. Oswald blushed and leaned into the contact. Drinking it in. Eventually, though, he had to pull away. "You...you don't have to leave."

Ruby's brow crinkled.

"Go in my room." Oswald gently lifted Ruby to her feet. "Tranfer all your things there, for the time being. I won't let you go out there and starve."

Ruby's eyes got huge and teary again. This time, she held them back and nodded. With one last hug the two friends went separate ways. Ruby made regular trips to the attic, bringing as many of her belongings as she could.

Oswald, in the meantime, headed downstairs. He still had lunch to prepare, after all. And the afternoon drinks. Maybe he would try the...sherry, himself.


	13. Chapter 12

**Here's another chapter! Please, please, please review!  
**

* * *

Chapter 12

Oswald carefully tipped the alcohol into the three martini glasses, taking care not to spill any. It would have been so easy, too, given that he'd been working all afternoon. In the space of three hours, he'd run three baths, waxed the table, polished the silver, and washed lunch's dishes. Speaking of lunch, his thanks for cooking his mother's goulash had been extremely negative. Grace had even called her his 'slut mother', and said that she wanted a roast for dinner. It was Sunday, after all. Oswald had never done so much labor in his life, and he was beginning to wonder how Ruby did it all without complaint.

Oswald glanced up as he set the bottle down. Right above him, he knew, was his bedroom. Ruby. Just out of curiousity, he wondered what she was doing now. Was she reading? Napping? Polishing her jewels? It felt strangely wonderful to have her in his room. Like some beautiful little bird he'd collected.

"Don't forget the cherries, Oswald!" Grace's distant voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Oh! Right!" Oswald cursed himself. "Cherries, cherries, cherries..." He began opening and closing drawers, searching through each one. He found no cherry, but he did find a glass container hidden beneath the silverware. Frowning, he pulled it out. Oswald's heart skipped a beat. He recognized it at once. It was the Van Dahl family sherry. He held it up to the light, and felt a chill. Ruby was right. It had changed color. What about the rest? Now thoroughly frightened, he uncapped the bottle and sniffed his contents. With a gagging sound he pulled away, coughing.

"Oswald?" Grace called.

With a gasp Oswald quickly set the bottle down, in front of his feet. Thankfully, the counter concealed it. Grace strolled in, dressed in a fine black dress and a black pearl necklace. Oswald wondered how much Ruby would have liked it. She eyed him with a mocking exasperation. "Where's my drink?"

"Oh..." Oswald quickly handed her the martini glass. "I'm sorry, but there's no cherries." He admitted sheepishly.

Grace quirked a brow. "No cherries?" She eyed him coldly. "The next time I ask for cherries, there had better be cherries." She left at that, not leaving Oswald time to say a word. He simply smiled and nodded. "Yes, Grace...ma'am!" He corrected himself. Once she was out of sight, he quickly reverted his attention to the bottle. Grace's dog eyed him with blank, yet slightly curious eyes. Thinking fast, Oswald took a small saucer from the shelf, filled it with sherry, and set it down for the dog. The hound sniffed it for a minute before lapping it up with interest. Oswald watched with wide eyes as it drank it all to the last drop. He waited, wondering...

Charles and Sasha shambled in. "Mother said to remind you of tonight's dinner." The former said. Oswald turned to them with a dark, hooded expression.

"What's wrong with him?" Sasha asked, scooting closer to her brother.

"Who knows?" Charles asked in return, looking at him with pity. He leaned forward and raised his voice. "Mother wants a roast!" He repeated, speaking as if to a retard.

"And make it _good_ this time." Sasha added. The two walked off, laughing cruelly. Oswald stared after them, his expression unwavering. "Yes, I will."

Below, the dog made a moaning sound before falling on its side. Oswald watched the familiar white foam gather at its muzzle, its blank eyes staring up at him. Seeing nothing.

Oswald broke into laughter. It was a deep, demented cackle that only grew louder as the cage inside his mind shattered.

* * *

Night came quietly and gracefully, like a shy maiden. Gentle music played in the background. Healthy orange flames burned in the fireplace, eating hungrily at the wood. The table had been elaborately set. Not one, but two roasts sat in silver platters. Around them were the candied lakes of their own blood, nearly dark as ink.

Oswald glanced once behind Grace's seat. In the shadows, a pair of dark blue eyes met his. Nodded encouragingly. He smiled and nodded in return. Carefully, he cut a generous slab of meat and transferred it to Grace's dish. Without a word or look she instantly began to slice it. Popping the bits in her mouth at a scary rate. Oswald watched her do it, his eyes glinting and his mouth a thin line. "How is it?" He asked. "Not too gamey?"

"Hm." Grace sounded rather unimpressed, considering how quickly she was eating. "Overcooked." Oswald pouted, looking thoughtful, before suddenly brightening. "Try the other joint." Grace watched, bored, as Oswald sliced another slab of flesh from the other roast and brought it to her plate. "It is _much_ more tender."

In the dark, the figure slapped a hand over her mouth to keep the chuckles in. Grace eagerly cut into the meat and stuck it in her mouth. She sighed while still chewing. "It's the same."

"Mm." Oswald seemed only vaguley disappointed as he leaned in. "Still. Beats my _slut_ mother's goulash, no?"

Grace swallowed. Stuffed another large, juicy piece in her mouth. What was it? Pork? Beef? That was all the proof that she needed to know that Oswald had prepared this meal, not Ruby. Ruby was a vegetarian, and was digusted by meat in general. Whenever meat was on the menu, she got so squeamish that someone else had to handle it. But at least she could cook decently.

Oh, well.

"Where are the children?" She asked through a mouthful. "Ring the bell again."

Oswald winced, but his eyes were smiling. "I doubt they'll hear it."

Grace stopped eating. She'd been around Oswald long enough to trace out his personality in a few strokes. He was friendly, docile, and above all weak. He wouldn't have dared to disobey even the slightest order. She glanced up at him and saw something in an instant. "You look different." She commented.  
Oswald smiled, looking strangely touched. "You noticed!" He held his arms out in a 'ta-daa' gesture, smirking all the way. Indeed, he was dressed in a very refined manner: black velvet coat, perfectly ironed white shirt underneath, and an ebony tie. In his breast pocket was a white rose striped with red. His inky hair, rather than being combed back like a good little schoolboy's, was gelled into elaborate, messy spikes. "Yes. I'm doing my hair a different way. It suits me rather well, don't you think?"

"Charles?" Grace called. "Sasha?" She turned back to Oswald. "Where are they?"

Oswald didn't answer right away. He stared at her with fierce, icy-blue eyes. His mouth was like a thin cut. His face was as hard as marble, his posture stiff. Towering over her, he seemed almost scary. "I found the sherry in the kitchen, Grace." He said quietly, but firmly. Grace's hands, in the midst of cutting meat, slowed to a halt. Oswald didn't look away from her gaze. He seemed...stronger than before. "The one Ruby accused you of poisoning to kill my father. It turns out that she was nothing less than honest, unlike my current company."

The silverware clanged on the plate. Grace straightened in her seat. Trying to ignore how nervous she was getting. She cleared her throat. If Oswald saw the fear in her eyes, then she would be lost. What she didn't know was that he'd already seen it.

"What on earth are you talking about?" She demanded. "Are you really going to believe that whore instead of me?"

Oswald giggled then leaned in close. "I'd watch my tongue if I were you!" He said mockingly. "If not, I might just cut it off, dry it, and give it to her to wear as a necklace. I wonder if all the lies you've ever told would drip from it. Like the poison you're too cruel to throw away."

Grace tried to get up. Two things happened in the following three seconds. Oswald tore the knife out of the roast and held it towards Grace. In that same instant, some kind of rubbery robes twisted around Grace's middle. Effectively tying her to her chair. When she looked down, Grace saw the strangest bonds that she could have imagined: they were soft, boneless, and of a faint peach tone. At the ends of them...were hands covered in rings. Grace screamed and turned her head. Ruby's face appeared inches from her own. It had utterly transformed without changing a detail. It was wicked and malevolent, with dark blue eyes thirsting for blood. Her blood.

"Hello, Mistress Grace." Ruby said sweetly. "I see you've integrated well in your status as empress of the household. Ah..." One of the hands stretched out, fingers reaching towards Grace's neck. The woman whimpered and whined until the fingers found their target: the black pearl necklace. In one swift motion the hand removed it. "That belonged to the Master's mother." Ruby informed her. "And it's too fine a collar for a lying bitch like you."

"It's yours now." Oswald said gently, still aiming the knife at Grace's throat. Ruby looked touched. "Really?"

Oswald smiled. It was the only thing left of his weaker self. "I can think of no one more worthy of wearing it."

Ruby blushed and looked away, keeping a death grip on Grace.

"CHARLES!" Grace screamed, fighting against Ruby's boneless arms. "SASHA! HELP!"

"They won't come!" Oswald sneered, all kindness leaving his face.

"Where are they?" Grace was on the brink of crying now. Oswald chuckled, loving the desperate look on her face. Memorizing it. Until finally, he let the bomb fall. "You thought they tasted the same!" He laughed at her confused face. "But Sasha?" He slammed a finger into the smaller roast, and then popped the greasy digit into his mouth. He made a moan of gratification. Ruby stuck her tongue out in disgust. Grace stared down at the plate. At first, with confusion. Then, horror. "No." She whispered.

"Definitely more tender!" Oswald grinned. "In my opinion." He listened to the chorus of increasingly desperate 'no's emanate from Grace's back before raising the knife. "Ruby, hold her tight!"

"With pleasure!" Ruby replied.

"NOOOO!" Grace shrieked. The knife came down in a silver arch that ended in crimson. Her screams were silenced.

* * *

Half an hour later, all evidence was erased. Ruby dumped the roasts in the garbage bag, which she left outside to be collected at dawn. Oswald wanted to leave Grace's body there, at the table. But Ruby drew the line. The longer they waited, the riskier it would get. That was why they wrapped her body in sheets of poor quality. Lifting the carcass over her head, Ruby walked out of the house. Out of the garden. Out of the property. She kept walking, guided by memory. At last, she found a large hole in the middle of the sidewalk. Right where she'd seen it a few days earlier. She unceremoniously dumped the body down the hole. She didn't hear the sickly crash until she'd counted to ten. Smiling, Ruby knelt down in front of the hole. She knew that Grace couldn't hear her. But she still had to get this off her chest.

"Tomorrow morning," she said, "the construction workers will come back here and fill this hole with cement. Your body will never be found. You will disappear. Your name will disappear. Your body will disappear. All memory of you will disappear." She smiled. "And good riddance, I say."

* * *

Ruby was stretching, hoping to high heaven that the dim lights had concealed her power, as she walked in. "It's all taken care of!" She called, adjusting her hair. "By this time tomorrow, she'll be resting under nine feet of cement-" She stopped once she reached the dining hall's entrance. Stared.

A banquet had been set up. Lillies and white roses sat in the center of the table, glowing like ghosts in the candlelight. Fresh platters and silverware had been set out. For two. Every other inch of space was occupied by food. Everything in the fridge, Ruby gathered, except for the meat. Starry-eyed Ruby moved closer to the table, admiring the feast before her. Avocado salad. Ratatouille. Spaghetti pie. Meat-free chili. Grilled eggplants. Hummus with pita bread. Asparagus. All there, ready to be served. Ruby covered her mouth with her hands, trying to keep it all in. But even as she tried, tears leaked from her wide eyes.

"Do you like it?"

Ruby spun around. Oswald was standing there, holding a bottle of red wine and two chalices. He watched her hopefully. "I made a bit of a mess with the kitchen, trying to cook all this before you returned. I apologize for that, but-"

He was interrupted by a tight hug. Oswald gasped against Ruby's shoulder, trying to control his heart rate, while the maid embraced him. She buried her face in his neck. "I thought I'd lost you today. All this...it's wonderful." She whispered. Oswald blinked. His expression softened. After carefully setting the bottle down, he returned her hug. She smelt of fresh sweat and earth, but he didn't mind. She was here, now, hugging him and everything he represented. And that meant more than words could ever express. That was why he'd tried to do so with cooking. Finally, he pulled away with some regret. He cupped Ruby's cheek. "Thank you. From the bottom of my cold, black heart. If you hadn't warned me-"

"You would have figured it out, eventually." Ruby interrupted.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Oswald's thumb stroked Ruby's cheekbone, causing her whole face to blush. "The point is...this is whom I am. Who I will always be. I am deeply grateful for your help. But if you want to back out, know that I will not blame you. It is a great burden to carry, and it shouldn't be thrust upon anyone unwilling."

"But I am." Ruby replied. Her hand rested over Oswad's wrist. "I want this. And it's not just because you're my Master's son." Her eyes grew large, bashful, but she continued anyway. "You...are the only friend I've ever had. To me, you are wonderful no matter who you kill. It's a dog eat dog world, after all. And I don't care if you've committed crimes, and that you'll return to that path. I want to walk down that path with you. I want to help you." She paused. "Protect you." She swallowed. "If you'll have me."

Oswald had to bite his lip to keep the tears in. He nodded rapidly. "Of course." He pulled Ruby forth in another tight embrace, which Ruby gladly returned. They stood like that for a long, endless moment, rejoicing at what they'd almost lost and excited at what lay ahead. Oswald pulled back grinning like a fool. "Come, Ruby." He took her hand and guided her to the table. "We have a meal to eat and plans to make."

Ruby grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way."


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Flourescent lights cascaded upon the corpse's pallid flesh. It shone into the I.V bags, turning their teal contents to liquid jewelry. Tubes crawled from the bags like umbilical cords. Several lab assistants gently transferred those tubes into the corpse, where holes had been drilled for that very purpose. Through the glass window, in hidden safety, the minds behind the operation watched. One with cooled professionalism. The other with childlike delight just bubbling beneath the surface. "Our moment has arrived, Mrs. Peabody." Professor Strange smiled. "Our success here could finally free humanity from the shackles of mortality." He watched on, proud and excited, like a father watching his child trying to stand up.

Mrs. Peabody wasn't so easily swayed. "As you said the first dozen times we tried reanimation. And failed." She observed drily.

"Ah," Professor Strange said, "but I have a very good feeling about Patient 44. You need to be more positive." With that, he grabbed a flashlight and pushed past his partner. The scientists moved aside as he hovered over his patient, flashing the light in his eyes. Mirs. Peabody followed, bursting through the door. "Patient 44's e.e.g patterns confirm paradoxyl sleep. We're getting close." Turning the light off, he smiled down at the almost serene face. " _He's_ getting close."

The face of Theo Galavan twitched. Then, relaxed.

* * *

Sunlight beamed in Ruby's face, forcing her out of her dreamless sleep. Groaning, she covered her eyes with one hand and reached out with the other. It stretched, losing its bones along the way, until it reached the curtains on the other side of the room. Tired fingers found the drapes and gave a strong yank. The sunlight was obliterated in an instant. Ruby sighed in relief and shifted on the sofa. An arm draped around her side, holding her close.

Ruby stopped. Dark blue eyes opened. Her heartbeat, which had been going so slowly in sleep, began to pick up the pace. Quickly she sat up. Looked down and sighed in relief. Good, she was still wearing clothes. Different, more casual clothes, yes - a Nirvana T-shirt and polka-dot sweatpants - but nevertheless clothes. She quickly hiked up her shirt, pulling down the collar and rolling up her pants' legs. No bruises. No scratches. Nothing out of the ordinary. Good.

She looked around as sleep finally surrendered her memory. It was the tea room. The very one where, less than twenty-four hours ago, she'd confronted the Van Dahls for poisoning the Master's wine. Now, it was littered with papers, photos, and several emptied tea mugs. And an empty peanut butter jar or two.

Ruby smiled. She'd never have to serve them again. Never again would she have to hear Charles babble about the boring novel he'd never publish. She'd never have to give Sasha a French pedicure while the girl chatted for hours on the phone with her bubble-headed friends. And she would never again have to look at Grace, forcing a smile when all she'd really wanted was to spit in their faces.

They'd all gotten what they'd deserved. Thanks to Oswald.

Ruby smiled, slowly turning to the person on the couch beside her. Despite his formal attire, which he'd refused to get out of all night, he still looked adorable. He was curled up admist the pillows, breathing softly. His hair looked like he'd stuck his finger in an electrical socket, but his expression was like the cat who'd eaten the canary.

The maid watched him with affection, recalling in detail what had happened. After a bountiful feast in the saloon, the two had washed the dishes together. Ruby couldn't remember the last time someone had helped her with the dishes. Then, she'd excused herself to bathe and change. Oswald had agreed, asking that she brew up some tea and meet him in the, well, tea room. She'd given him a thumbs-up before departing to the bathroom. Before leaving, she'd snuck into Grace's bathroom and applied a little of her expensive, sweet perfume. Why? She wasn't sure herself. But her usual aromatic formula of vanilla soap and deodorant suddenly didn't seem like enough.

Then, between copious amounts of tea and peanut butter on crackers, the two had gotten to work. Oswald had whipped out the mugshots and photos of everyone he'd worked with in the past. Apparently, he'd brought them along from Arkham 'just in case'. Later, during his rehabilitation, he'd used those pictures as a sort of list of people to reconnect with. Each person had refused to have anything to do with him.

"Not that I could blame them." Oswald had sneered. "Looking back at these past months makes me shudder with shame. I was a weak, fragile _child_. I wasn't even the shadow of who I used to be, nor the shell. I was nothing."

Ruby had placed a hand on his shoulder, bringing his eyes to hers. Firmly, she'd said, "While I admit you're much stronger now, you weren't nothing to me."

Oswald had blinked, then smiled warmly. He'd taken the hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. Then, he'd introduced her to his former partners.

Victor Zsasz. Jim Gordon, to a very limited extent. Butch Gilzean. Edward Nygma. Tommy Bones. The list went on.

"Wow." Ruby had pushed some brown-blonde-hair out of her eyes. "You ran with a dangerous crowd, eh?"

"The _most_ dangerous." Oswald had assured her. "That is why, with all this lost time, winning them back will be quite the challenge."

Ruby had suddenly brightened. An idea took root in her mind. Bursting forth branches and blossoming details. Grinning, she had asked if any of these people were currently in Blackgate Prison.

"Only Tommy Bones, from what I have heard." Oswald replied. "Why?"

Ruby had grinned. "You'll see."

Now, after a good night's rest, Ruby felt as ready as ever to begin her plan. She began to rise before stopping. Turned back to Oswald. Hesitated. Then, gently, she rested a hand on his forehead and pushed some hair back. Took a moment to stroke his face. Lightly, so as not to wake him. His skin was so smooth...

Oswald smiled faintly in his sleep. Ruby took that as her cue to let him rest some more. What time was it, anyway? She glanced at the small grandfather clock hiding in the corner. Her eyebrows went up. Well, whadoya know? It was half-past ten a.m. She hadn't slept in so late since childhood. If anyone got to sleep in, though, it was the king of Gotham. Smiling, Ruby took a moment to pull the blanket over Oswald's shoulders. Taking one last look at his face, she went off to do her duty.

* * *

An hour later, Ruby was showered, perfumed, and dressed. For the first time in eight years, she wore something other than her maid's uniform. The only person living here was Oswald now, and he didn't just feel like an employer anymore. But she had no clothes of her own: she only had copies of her maid uniform, and her pajamas. That was why, with a devious smile, Ruby sneaked into Sasha's bedroom. Trying not to vomit at all of the pink-themed merchandise, she began rummaging through the dead girl's closet.

Smirking, she raised her voice. Not loud enough to wake Oswald, but enough to amuse herself. "Oh, Miss Sasha!" She called. "Not only have I refrained from cooking you breakfast, but I'm also looking at your clothes! You'd better come here and put me in my place!"

Five seconds passed. Then, ten. Twenty.

Chuckling, Ruby examined each article of clothing with care. Most of these outfits were far too fancy for her taste. But in the end, she found something sort of decent. It was a shapeless jeans dress with a royal purple blouse beneath. "Huh." Ruby smirked. "Looks like someone used to be tubby." Making a mental note to donate everything here to charity, she changed into the clothes. Looking at her reflection caused a cringe. Ruby had an average figure: not round, not skinny, not curvy, not flat. Her measurements all bounced around in the middle. The only thing that really stood out about her was her above-average height. Ergo, the baggy clothes shaved a decade from her figure. But it was the best she could do for now.

Once she'd dumped everything of Sasha's in a cardboard box, Ruby strolled down to the kitchen. Expertly, she whipped up some breakfast for Oswald and hid it all beneath a lid. Leaving a note atop the plate, Ruby gathered her coat and left the mansion.

* * *

Jim Gordon sat at his office, surrounded by ringing phones and bustling cops. Seeing none of them. He kept his eyes down, drumming his notes with his pen. All of the facts swirled in his head like chunks of meat in a stew, and the conspiracy theories soured the mixture. And Barbara's return? It was the dregs at the bottom of the bowl.

He ran a hand over his shaved head, trying to think straight. How could she be out of Arkham? Who would let her out? Strange? Well, yes. maybe. But why? Was she just a ticking time bomb, ready to blow up and desolate everything around her? It wasn't like she could cause a bigger explosion than last time. To him, anyway. Jim sighed, rubbing his eyes. No. He couldn't allow himself to be led astray. If he started doing that, then he'd never solve the riddle. He'd promised Bruce Wayne long ago that he'd find and punish the man who'd made him an orphan. But this...this was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Who was 'the Philosopher', and why had he ordered the hit on Thomas and Martha Wayne?

A light tapping on his shoulder nearly sent him tumbling. He spun around in his chair. The intruder gasped and stepped back. Jim frowned, getting a good look at her. It was a young woman, maybe twenty-five or so, dressed in a black trench-coat. The buttons, he noticed right away, were mismatched as well as shiny. Fake jewels, all of them. That was the most remarkable thing about her. Jim saw that she was average in every sort of way: height, build, and skin color. Her hair was cut in a pixie style, and was very curly. It was a mixture of blonde, gray, and brown. Her face was round and chinless, but determined. "Um, sorry, can you help me?"

Jim turned so that he fully faced her. Rested his hands on his knees. "Yes?"

"I'm looking for the GCPD captain, Nathaniel Barnes." The young woman informed him. The name sent a chill running down Jim's back. He recalled the last time he'd ever see his former boss: wrapped up in a straight-jacket like some demented Christmas present, screaming, "GUILTY!" from dawn to dusk. Demented. Viscous. Broken beyond repair. "Uh, I'm sorry." He shook his head. "Nathaniel Barnes no longer works here. He's...not currently fit to work."

"Oh." The young woman looked disappointed, but her expression quickly melted into an unwavering one. "Well, may I speak to the current captain?" Something about the way she asked rubbed him the wrong way.

Jim rose. The young woman raised her eyebrows as he towered above her. He placed his hands on his hips. "Why?" He asked firmly.

The young woman's eyebrows narrowed. "I don't think I'm obligated to speak until I've talked with the captain." She crossed her arms. "If you aren't going to help me, I'll look for him myself." Well, she had some fire to her. Like Barbara. Like Lee. Both names drove javelins in his heart. Jim stared at her. It was clear that she wasn't going to leave. Sighing, he dropped his hands from their perches. "Wait here." He slipped past her and ran up the stairs, swiftly avoiding obstacles of both metal and flesh. He passed the medical examination lab, where the stench of disinfectant turned his throat to Styrofoam. He walked past Edward Nygma's desk, now slathered in dust and angry graffiti. Finally, he reached the office door and gave it a knock. "What?" His partner yelled through a mouthful.

Jim opened the door and poked his head in. Empty Chinese takeaway boxes took up every corner of the room. The windows were draped in crusty blinds. Piles of paperwork rested on the desk. Harvey Bullock sat amidst of it all, eating at a rapid pace. His beard and shirt were flicked with crumbs. "What is it, Jim?" He asked, raising his chopsticks. "You know this is my morning break!"

"There's a girl here to see you." Jim said bluntly. "She's rock-headed, too. So if I were you, I'd clean myself up and open a window."

"You're _not_ me, thank God." Harvey tossed down his chopsticks and rose. His stuffed belly threatened to burst through his shirt's buttons. He pulled the blinds up, wincing at the sudden increase of sunlight, and opened the window. "So," he stepped aside to avoid the cold blast, "who's the broad?" He looked at Jim with interest. "She cute?"

Jim shrugged. "Too young for my taste."

Harvey's shoulders slumped in disappointment. He crashed in his desk's chair again, searching for a toothpick. "What's her name? Why's she here so damn early?"

"She wouldn't say." Jim said. "And by the way, it's not early. It's almost noon for Christ's sake!"

"Ah," Harvey looked away, waving his arm. "Away with you."

Jim chuckled, removing his head from the door-frame. He'd barely turned around before jumping in surprise. The young woman was standing there, her face open and waiting. "Well?" She asked. "May I go in?"

Jim nodded, trying to recompose himself. "Yeah." He stepped aside. "Yeah, go on in."

"Thanks." The young woman was about to go in before stopping. Turned to look at him thoughtfully. Jim remained still, but he had to admit that there was something strange about those big eyes. Like they could see through his skin and examine everything inside. The young woman spotted his name tag. Gave a faint smile. "Jim Gordon?"

Jim nodded. "Yes, Miss...?"

The young woman paused. "Sinclair." She straightened. "You once saved a person who I've become...fond of. So, thank you." Jim frowned quizzically. He was about to ask for more details when Sinclair disappeared behind the closed door. Jim stared at it, confused as ever. Sighing, he began the tread back to his desk. He still had a nut to crack, after all.

* * *

Ruby eyed the man standing behind the desk. He looked nothing like she'd expected Barnes' successor to look like. She'd met Barnes once, many years ago. Her mother had been accused of sniffing cocaine, and Barnes himself had gone to their home to interrogate her. Ruby had watched from the top of the staircase, quiet as a mouse. She'd remembered him, how strong and no-nonsense his aura had been. He'd hated criminals. That much had been clear from the first word he'd spoken. Now, she'd been hoping to tap into that.

This guy looked like a battered, tired detective. He had a white beard and longish brown hair. His face was covered in premature wrinkles, and his clothes had more creases than your average paper boat. But in his eyes was a glimmer of intelligence, of wit, that gave Ruby hope.

"Captain." Ruby gave a slight bow. "Thank you for meeting me on such short notice. But it's fairly urgent."

The guy began arranging the papers on his desk. "I'll be the judge of that, Miss...?"

"Sinclair." Ruby sighed. "Ruby Sinclair."

"Sinclair?" The guy looked up with interest. "Hey, isn't that the same surname as that supermodel?"

Ruby felt her skin crawl. "Yes." She forced out through gritted teeth.

"Cool!" The guy grinned. But even as he smiled, she saw him assessing her. His expression merely confirmed what she'd always known: even with her condition healed, she would never be the great beauty her mother had been. "Are you her relative or somethin'?"

"Daughter, in fact." Ruby felt kind of good via admitting that. Ripping away her parents' deceit one person at a time.

The guy - Harvey Bullock, as the name plate said - frowned in confusion. "Huh. That's funny. She's never mentioned a daught-"

"I would've marred her business." Ruby interrupted briskly. She sat down, smoothing out her coat. "Speaking of business, shall we get to ours?"

Harvey raised his bushy eyebrows before slowly following suit. "Okay." He tented his fingers across the desk. Eyeing her with interest. "So, Miss Sinclair, what can I do for ya?"

Ruby smiled, trying to ignore how tight her stomach's knots were. Well. This was it. Cold sweat broke out across her body as she dived in. "I need an...associate of mine removed from Blackgate and put under my supervision."

Harvey looked dubious at best. Not good. The knots grew tighter. "Who?"

Ruby took a deep breath. Plunged in deeper. "Tommy Bones."

"The crime boss?!" Harvey stared at her as though she'd gone mad. He jumped to his feet, already waving her off. "Not in a million years, girly!"

Ruby rose. "But-"

"I said no!" Harvey turned to face her. Gone was the funny, world-weary guy. Here was the captain. Fierce and strict. "In fact, I should cuff you for even wanting to break him out!"

"I don't want to break him out!" Ruby yelled over him. "I just need to talk with him!"

"Then go to the damn prison!" Harvey snapped. "Hell, that'll probably be the first visit he's had in months!"

"It won't work." Ruby shook her head. "It...it has to be at my house. I want him to see it. If he just hears my offer from the other side of the glass wall, he'll think I'm bluffing. He needs to see it and know what I'm selling."

"Well, whatever you're selling, I ain't buying." Harvey sat back down in his chair. All spent. Sighing, he stared down at his desk. Began fumbling through papers. "We're done here, Miss Sinclair."

"But-"

"Out." Harvey's tone was meant to end the conversation. Ruby stood there, shaking and beaten. She was already berating herself for being so naive. What, did she think she could really just stroll in here and ask for the criminal to be released? Albeit in her own house, with guards at the doors and guns aimed at his face? This guy was a cop. Of course he was going to say no. Ruby had only tried this because she'd known that a direct break-out would have been too risky, and would have in no way ensured Tommy Bones' long-term loyalty.

Ruby had failed. But she couldn't return home empty-handed. That was why she had to give it one last shot. Even if she would bitterly regret it afterwards.

"Captain..." Ruby inhaled deeply. "What if I bought your agreement?"

Harvey snorted as he looked up. "There's no way I-" Stopped dead in his tracks. Sparkling in the midday sunlight was a diamond necklace, casting rainbow flakes across the walls and floor. Hanging from between Ruby's index finger and thumb, it was easily a foot long and thick with jewels. Diamonds of blue, green, orange, red, and yellow shimmered brilliantly like a mountain spring. He stared at it with a dropped jaw.

Ruby smiled sadly. "Nice isn't it? This is a very old necklace. It took me over a yearof saving to finally be able to buy it, and I'm talking about the last decade. It was sold to me at $44,000."

Harvey's jaw dropped even lower.

"It's probably worth more now." Ruby said thoughtfully, holding it up for inspection. "Any jeweler worth his money could buy this from you for an even higher sum. That could help run things a bit more smoothly around here: taxes, wages, better coffee, medical equiptment, guns..." She began to retract it. "But if you're not interested..."

"No!" Harvey held his hand up. "No, no! Uh..." He gave a weak smile. "Let's work something out." He pointed a finger at her. "I'm tellin' ya right now, you won't be taking Bones anywhere without an entourage."

Ruby smiled sadly. When she dropped the necklace into Harvey's waiting palm, it felt like someone had placed a stone in her heart. "Fine by me."

* * *

Oswald woke to the sound of police sirens and honking horns. Icy-blue eyes flew open in alarm. His heart caught in his throat. The Penguin scrambled out of bed - which wasn't a bed at all but the tea room's sofa - and fell face-first on the carpet. The noises didn't stop. In face, the joining of voices only made them louder. Cursing, Oswald hoisted himself up via the curtains. His leg complained every step of the way, sending bolts of electricity running up his body. Cringing, Oswald finally stood and yanked the curtains aside. His brow furrowed with confusion.

Police cars were crowded in his front yard, their red and blue lights flashing. What appeared to be a prison van was trying to park. The driver had his head out and was arguing visciously with some cops. Other policemen were slowly opening the van's doors. Pulling at something's chains. When that something emerged into daylight, Oswald gasped. It was none other than one of the most prominent crime bosses in Gotham's underworld. Tommy Bones. The guy had gotten fatter since the last time Oswald had seen him, and orange was definitely not his color. He was staring at the mansion with a mixture of greed and shock.

"What in the world...?" Oswald leaned closer to the glass, trying to make sense of it all...

...when the door burst open. He spun around to see Ruby. Tearstains halved her cheeks. But there was a tired smile on her face. Oswald felt warmed by the sight of it. He reached out to her without thinking about it. Ruby closed the space between them. Grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"Ruby," he began, "what's going on?"

Ruby smiled. "Remember the list of former allies we went over last night?"

Oswald did. Those faces had been swimming in his head for most of the night. "Yes. Why is one of them chained up like a boar in my front yard?"

"I pulled some strings and brought him here." Ruby's hand traced her collarbone. "It came at a high price." Her hand dropped and rested on Oswald's shoulder. "But this'll be worth it."

Oswald frowned, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, dear. But I'm still not following."

Ruby grinned. "I had Tommy Bones brought here specifically for you to woo him back into your services!"

Oswald blinked, looking vaguely unimpressed. "Woo." He repeated flatly.

"Woo!" Ruby echoed. "Once he sees this opulent mansion, with you dressed as its lord, he'll be drooling over the possibilities. The wages he could receive, the connections he might get..." She trailed off. "Well, he'll definitely get out of prison. And we, in turn, will get his and his gang's support. Once other gangs see him at our heed and call, they'll come flocking." She grinned. "From there, it'll be easy pickings."

Oswald stared at her, speechless. His eyes were gleaming. "Ruby, I..." He shook his head, grinning in wonder. "I don't know what to say." He reached out and pushed a lock out of her eyes. The close contact set fire to Ruby's cheeks. She did her best to hide it. She caught his hand and squeezed it. "You don't have to say anything yet. Right now, you should focus on getting ready." With reluctance she let go of his hand and stepped back. "I'll distact them with tea and brunch. That should buy enough time, right?"

"Absolutely." Oswald nodded, grinning deviously. "It will soon be others serving you, not vice versa."

Ruby shrugged. "I actually like this job." A small, humorless laugh. "It's the one thing I'm good at."

"I beg to differ." Oswald caught her hand and gave the knuckles a gentle kiss. Ruby thought she'd faint on the spot. Instead, she ran out of the room. Oswald watched her go before hobbling out himself.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14  


Black tea. Green tea. Chamomile. Earl Grey. Different types of tea, but with the same power of calming people down. Particularly cops and a thug. Ruby leaned against the door-frame, smirking as she watched the guests relax. The jabbering had stopped almost as quickly as the tea's arrival. Even Tommy Bones, who had been cuffed to the table and had six shotguns pointed at him, looked almost docile with his flowery cup. He held it out as she passed, two teapots in each hand. "Do ya mind?" He asked. "This is some damn good stuff."

Ruby smiled. "Certainly." She poured. Tommy drank greedily, finishing the steaming liquid almost as quickly as she'd given it. Rolling her eyes, she began to move away. An iron grip around her bicep snapped her back. "Hey." The shotguns crackled as they were lifted. The men behind them were alert. Wide-eyed. Ruby, however, remained stone-faced as she met the man's eyes. "When's your boss gonna show up, anyway? We've been waitin' forever!"

"It's only been half an hour." Ruby replied calmly. "I'm afraid I don't dictate how long it takes him to complete his discussion." Her arm twitched from within his grasp. "Now, if you don't mind..."

Tommy sighed. Let go. The shotguns were lowered. Ruby nodded, moving quickly away. She could already feel the handprint on her arm, burning like a torch, but she acted as though she'd been unaffected.

"Seriously, though!" Tommy called after her. "This is better than the slammer, but I'm still gettin' bored!"

"Oh," A cool voice rose, "the tragedy." All heads turned towards it, Ruby's included. Her heart stopped. Standing in the stain-glass doorway was Oswald Cobblepot in all of his menacing elegance. Gone was the neat, big-eyed innocent; in his place was a gentleman of crime if there had ever been one. His onyx hair was washed and elaborately styled in intricate spikes. He wore a royal-blue suit with shoulder padding, giving him a striking pose. His trousers were of a blue so dark that they were nearly black. Beneath his coat he sported a dark green vest and, below that, a perfectly ironed shirt. A vibrant indigo tie sat snugly beneath his chin. Straightening his posture was a black cane with a wolf's head carved into the handle. To Ruby's surprise, the dark attire was clashed by a single white rose in his breast pocket.

He met her eyes and smiled without moving his face. Then, he turned back to the group. "Hello!" He gave a flourish bow. "I am Oswald Cobblepot. Thank you all for coming on such short notice."

"What is this?" Tommy Bones demanded, quickly overcoming his shock. "I thought you were in the loony bin!"

"Yeah!" A cop called from amidst the crowd. "You were rehabilitated."

"I was actually incarcerated unjustly." Oswald gave the men a smile wrought with pity. "But I am touched by your concern." His cane rhythmically thumped against the hardwood floor. He hobbled to the head of the table. His icy-blue eyes rested on Tommy Bones. A falcon preying on an unsuspecting mouse. "Now," he said, "if you would be so kind as to give us some privacy, gentlemen," he gestured between himself and Bones, "we have business matters to discuss."

"Like hell!"

Oswald turned, jaw set, as a policeman stepped forward. "Bullock's orders were clear: we are not to leave the prisoner alone."

"He won't be alone." Ruby spoke up nervously. When people turned to look at her, that feeling multiplied. Ruby froze, suddenly feeling like the loser kid who had to make a speech before her classmates. She searched the sea of hostile, questioning faces before finding Oswald's. His eyes were shining, his expression encouraging. Swallowing, Ruby resumed. "Um, we'll be here. Os...Mr. Cobblepot and I. If he tries anything, we'll call."

The police didn't look convinced. They murmured amongst themselves, exchanging ideas and asking questions. Tommy Bones just looked bored at this point. He rested his cheek in his palm, drumming his fingers against the armrest. Throughout it all, Ruby and Oswald shared a look. Ruby raised her hands to show that her fingers were crossed. Oswald smirked slightly and nodded with approval. Finally, the cop who had spoken before closed the distance between himself and Ruby. His fist thrust out. From it dangled a whistle. Ruby took it, still slightly confused.

"We'll be just beyond that door." He said. "If this scumfuck tries anything, blow it."

"You can take that whistle and-" Bones would have said more if Oswald hadn't shot him such a venomous look. It took him less than a second to turn that frown upside down when facing the police officer. "Of course. Thank you." He gestured to the door with his cane. "Don't worry, gentlemen. We shan't be long." The crowd slowly trickled through the doors, muttering uncertainty and distrust. Ruby fondled the whistle, eyeing it with interest. She chewed on it. "Hmm. Silver mixed with a trace of iron. Not bad." She slipped it around her neck.

"You may keep it afterward, if you wish." Oswald said fondly. "But don't go using it now, please."

Ruby gave him a look that screamed, _'how stupid do you think I am?'_ Oswald would have been almost hurt had it not been for the playful twinkle in those dark blue eyes. Turning back to Tommy Bones, Oswald straightened. Slipping the mask of professionalism back on. "Hello, Bones." He gave him a look-over. "You have seen better days, I'd wager."

"Go screw yourself." Tommy sneered.

Oswald's cane swung through the air and collided with Tommy's cheek. The impact sent his face crashing against the table. Ruby frowned. Great. She'd just waxed the table an hour ago. She crossed her arms, watching yet ready to intervene. "A word of advice." Oswald leaned closer to Tommy's pressed face. "Do not bite the hand that feeds you." Resuming his posture, he smirked. "Now. This is how the meeting will proceed. I will offer you a deal. If you have any brain cells whatsoever, you will accept. If not, you may go back to being regularly raped in the posterior each time you shower."

Ruby grimaced at the familiar image. Tommy blushed all the way to his roots. He sat back up, rubbing his aching visage. "Yeah?" He asked cockily. "And why should I listen to you, freak? You're nothin'. Less than an umbrella boy now."

Another whack with the cane. This time hitting the other cheek. Tommy's face smacked against the table again. Ruby groaned at the work awaiting her. Oswald, in the meantime, was bubbling beneath his calm exterior. Mostly because Tommy Bones had spoken verily. The Penguin had been dropping down the underworld's ladder ever since he'd been sent to Arkham. His empire had crumbled. His base had been taken over by (ugh) Tabitha Galavan and his once-faithful minion, Butch. All of his former alliances had rotted away.

But anyone can fall. Only those who got back up mattered.

And boy did the Penguin matter. Oswald was about to speak again when a petite hand, filled with rings, seized Tommy's scalp and slammed it against the table. Once. Twice. He stared beyond the hand to its owner, whose face was set in stone. She glared down at Tommy, who looked more than a little drowsy, with a contempt that could melt ice-caps. "Insult him again." She hissed at Tommy. "Do it. I dare you."

"Ruby, calm down." Oswald reached out. His hand rested on the jeweled one upon Tommy's head. "He's not crossed any serious lines yet."

Ruby blushed. Her fingers knitted through his and squeezed. As Oswald pulled away, Ruby rubbed her arm. "Sorry. Got carried away."

Oswald smiled at her before turning back to Tommy. His smile vanished as quickly as it had come. "Now. Are you going to listen?"

Growling softly under his breath, Tommy nodded. Ruby remained behind him, crossing her arms. Oswald beamed. "Excellent. Now," he cleared his throat, "here is my offer. Your gang is among the most prominent ones in Gotham. Their turn will come. But be sure to spread the word." He leaned forward so that his crooked, pointed nose was almost poking Tommy in the eye. "The Penguin is back, and he intends to reclaim his throne." Tommy shuddered. From the vicinity or the words, it was impossible to tell. Oswald straightened once more. "I expect your gang to give me support, forty percent of all of your dealings, and arms if needed. In return, you shall have a position of more elevated privilege than you have ever known before."

Ruby blinked, then frowned. "What about the reduced sentence?"

Oswald started. Grinned at her from ear to ear. "Oh, indeed! I stand corrected, dear! Thank you!" He winked at her, causing a carnelian blush. She smiled and shrugged, as if to say, _'just doing my job'_. But on the inside, she was brimming with joy.

Tommy looked up with interest. "Did I hear 'reduced sentence'?"

Oswald slapped his hand against Tommy's shoulderblades as though they were old friends having a beer. "Yes you did, good sir. As my lovely assistant just reminded me," a smiling Ruby looked away, "As an advance to our long collaboration, I am willing to cut your sentence in half, whatever that may be."

Tommy brightened. "I got five years."

"Well, now it is two and a half years." Oswald smiled wickedly. "Of course, you will have to ensure that your gang behaves. Otherwise, I will withdraw the deal - and everything that goes with it - in the time it takes you to blink."

Tommy eyed Oswald critically through his bruises and cuts. Tried to peel him alive with his eyes and see the truth underneath. "Could ya really do that?" He asked.

"I could, and I would." Oswald winked. It was a much less personal one than the one he'd given Ruby. "All you must do is swear your loyalty, and stand as one of my men."

Tommy remained still for a few moments, drumming his fingers against the table. Looking around at his luxurious surroundings. At last, he nodded. "Fine. The Red Xs got your back."

The 'Red X's? Ruby tried not to laugh. It sounded like what a fourteen-year-old emo would name his Metallica cover band. She managed to keep her face impassive as Tommy rose. To her great shock, he gave Oswald a tiny bow. Oswald was brimming with joy beneath his still face, and Ruby felt happy for him. If being a criminal meant serving him _and_ frequently seeing that face, then it would be worth it. Besides, it felt wickedly satisfying to take matters into her own hands. To do things on her terms and not the law's. Today never would have happened if the police had gotten a say in it. But her will had made it happen. That distinction alone shut down whatever guilt or nervousness she might have been harboring.

"Brilliant!" Oswald shook Tommy's hand. "See you soon, Bones. And be sure to keep your little x's under control."

"Sure...boss." Tommy Bones clearly had difficult saying that word, but at least he said it. Oswald turned to Ruby and grinned. Ruby shot him a thumbs-up before holding up the whistle questioningly. Oswald nodded. Ruby blew it. The sound was sharp and silvery, like a metal arrow piercing the air.

Not a second later the cops came bursting in, their shotguns aimed. Dozens of shouts bounced about the walls like boomerangs. Ruby grimaced and quickly retreated to the back of the room. Oswald, on the other hand, took control of the situation as though he'd foreseen it. He most likely had. Grabbing one of the shotguns, he aimed it for the roof and let loose a bullet. Th deep, crunching crash that followed silenced everyone. Smirking, Oswald politely handed the shotgun back to the cop he'd taken it from. "Now that I have your attention," he drawled, "gentlemen, you may escort Mr. Bones back to Blackgate. He has proven very well-behaved." Patting the man's shoulder, he added, "Oh, and be sure to inform the warden that I will be visiting him soon. With a signed cheque." He smirked at Ruby, who couldn't help mirroring his expression.

The cops, on the other hand, exchanged stunned looks. Deciding, however, to seize this opportunity, they collected Bones and herded him out of the room. Tommy twisted around to get one last look at Oswald, who saluted him in response. Seemingly satisfied, Tommy turned back around to face the door. The living room's door closed behind him. Silence reigned. Oswald and Ruby listened as the cops put Bones back into the van before leaving themselves, sirens wailing. Not too long later, reticence fell over the entire estate.

Ruby and Oswald stood there, drinking in what had just happened. The crown suddenly seemed a little less distant. The two looked at each other at the exact same time, as if sharing a telepathic link. Then, without a word, they embraced.

* * *

Men in white suits fell. The alarm cried. Professor Strange and Mrs. Peabody watched, captivated as well as horrified. A man rose from the chair that he'd been strapped to. Not long ago, he'd been a mere hunk of cold, lifeless meat. Now, he was raising his arms to the heavens and screaming. "AZRAEL!"

* * *

"And...that's the last for today!" Ruby grinned as her pen dragged across a gangster's name. Since the encounter with Bones had gone so smoothly, Oswald had decided to meet with other gang leaders as well - the ones who'd escaped the law for the millionth time. Ruby had refused to let him go alone. Thus, they had spent the entire day going from one hideout to another, negotiating with either bribes or threats. It had amazed Ruby at every turn, how Oswald had been able to remember exactly what would coax an agreement with each leader. With one, it was a chance to see his kids. With another, it was a ton of money. Oswald had known them all, and hit all the right notes. Ruby stood behind him the entire time, making sure no one tried to blow his brains out. At one point, someone tried. They ended up with their throat clogged with the same pistol they'd been holding a second ago. Ruby had barely broken a sweat.

Pushing some stubborn locks out of her eyes, she admired all of crossed-out names. "Not bad, if I do say so myself. Now, we have the support of the Red Xs, the Heart Eaters, the Glass Men, and the Stone Crows. Which adds up to over two hundred men and-"

"Not too shabby." Oswald smiled through jittering teeth. As night continued to fall, darkening the sky by the second, a cold wind began to blow. Trees bowed to it, and a mix of dead leaves and plastic bags twirled in its breaths. Ruby felt perfectly fine despite having only put on a light jacket. Oswald, on the other hand, was wearing a wool sweater, a thick overcoat, gloves, and a scarf. Yet he shivered. And eyed her with annoyed awe. "How, how, _how_ are you not freezing right now?"

Ruby bit her lip. Simply shrugged. "I...used to live in a very drafty place. I guess I'm just used to it."

"Oh?" Oswald offered her his arm. She gladly took it. They began to walk down the street, watching as the lampposts took turns lighting up. "Did your family not pay the electric bill on time?"

Ruby's face slammed shut like a metal gate. "They did. But I actually didn't live with them for a good chunk of my life."

Oswald stopped. For some reason, her words from the other day echoed in his mind's ear. From that awful afternoon when the truth was discovered.

 _"I **loved** that man more than I did my own parents!"_

What had she meant by that? Who had her parents been? Had they sent her off to boarding school? It seemed unlikely. If they had been able to afford such a luxury, then their daughter wouldn't be serving others for a living. Just like that, Oswald realized just how little he knew about the young woman he was coming to see as a friend. He didn't know where she'd lived, what her parents were like, if she had any siblings...almost nothing.

Then again, he knew that she was loyal to him, and cared about him. What more did he really need to know?

Still, he was about to ask her when Ruby suddenly stopped walking. Gasping, she tightened her hold on his arm. Staring off in the distance, she began jumping up and down like a kangaroo. "OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod!" She squealed, pointing.  
"What?" Oswald turned towards her forefinger - the one with the malachite ring gleaming in the streetlight - and saw a movie theatre that he hadn't gone to since childhood. The Marlow Theatre, yes! The sign was still painted above the doors in fading green. Blinking lights framed the night's specialties, none of which Oswald recognized: _Roundhay Garden Scene, Traffic Crossing Leeds Bridge, Newark Athlete_ , and _Annabelle Serpentine Dance_. Sticking to the walls were bleached posters of black-and-white films. Written in red below was the announcement that entrance cost two dollars.

He scoffed. "Oh, please." He tried walking away when Ruby clung to his arm. "Oh, come on! Please?"

Oswald turned and stared at her as though she'd lost her reason. "Are you pulling my leg? It's just a cheap get-together of movies forgotten by Man and God!"

"Not true." Ruby replied. "I love those old movies." She chuckled, but her eyes grew sad. "The Master actually went with me, once, during my day off. He said he'd actually been to a couple when they first came out." Oswald's expression softened slightly at the mention of his father. Just recently, the family's trusted artist had completed Elijiah's portrait and hung it over the fireplace. Now, every time he saw it was a dagger in Oswald's heart.

He looked at her. She looked years younger all of a sudden. Her eyes were alive with excitement, her grin wide. She looked like a kid in a candy store, times a hundred. Thinking about all she'd done for him, especially today, pushed his hand into his pocket. Extracting two dollars, he held them out to Ruby. She stared at them as if clueless about what they were. "Go on." He said gently. Ruby looked up at him with big indigo eyes. He reached down, took her hand, and placed the money in her palm. Curled her fingers around it. "Go on, you've earn it tenfold. Have a wonderful time and join me at the mansion later."

Ruby blinked in understanding before giving a half-smile. "Don't you want to come along?"

Oswald inhaled shakily. "I...haven't been to a movie theatre since I was a child. Each time I went, it was with my mother."

Ruby's expression softened. She rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. It gave him the strength to continue. "I honestly cannot remember her without weeping, and I fear that entering a theatre would do just that."

Ruby squeezed his shoulder before letting go. The spot went cold the moment she did so. "Oswald, I won't force you." She said gently. "But...I never met your mother, so I can't pretend to know what she would have wanted. Still, I think she'd want you to remember her with a smile, not just tears." She took a step back. "But again, if you don't want to, I won't push you. I have no right to."

Oswald looked down. Bit his lip. Indeed. Would his mother really want him to deprive himself of the little joys in life, just because they reminded him of her? His brewing thoughts declared war on each other. Finally, at the genesis of a migraine, one thought prevailed. Oswald smiled shakily. Nodded. "Alright."

Ruby blinked. "For real?"

"Yes." Oswald hobbled towards the cinema, grabbing her hand as he passed her by. "Let's just go before I come to my senses."

* * *

Ten minutes passed. Then, sixty. Another hundred minutes passed and neither the Penguin nor the maid noticed. They had left Gotham far behind them. In its place was a fantasy realm where dreams became a reality. Where colors were as bright as children's smiles, and even the black-and-white scheme seemed wonderous. Where sound was forgotten and visuals were everything.  
Oswald found himself getting more invested by the minute. He winced alongside the Moon when a rocket hit it in the eye. He gasped alongside the audience when a magician made his assistant disappear, then reveal her skeleton, before showing her alive and well. He let out a little yelp when the Devil himself appeared in his tenebrous mansion. Every so often, Ruby leaned forward and whispered odd facts about the movies they were watching. Oswald drank in every word like sweet mead. He was so captivated by the ontourage of films that he barely realized that he held Ruby's hand for almost the entirety of the marathon. Ruby noticed. She didn't pull her hand away.

Finally, at half-past ten, the screen darkened for good. The lights came back on, shining harshly through a thick screen of cobwebs. Oswald's head snapped up. He felt startled. Back to reality when he'd been so blissful in this dream. He turned to Ruby, still feeling stunned. She was grinning from ear to ear, still staring at the screen as if still seeing images. When she turned and saw his face, she blushed. Her smile dropped by a degree or two out of embarassment. She pushed some wild hair out of her eyes. "Did you like it?" She asked shyly.

"Ruby, I..." His lips moved, but no words came out. There were no words to describe how he felt. He gestured to the screen. "When...how?"

Ruby sniggered. Hugged herself. "My parents..." She paused, wondering how much she should say. "They...didn't like the way I looked, so they'd keep me locked up at home ninety percent of the time."

Oswald said nothing. He just stared. Listening with both his ears and his heart.

"The other ten percent was here." Ruby gave a sad smile. "Because it was dark, and no one could see me. And they always brought me for the late-night shows, so no one would see me even by accident. And these films were the only thing playing at the time." She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, as if she were cold. Oswald didn't hesitate to shrug his overcoat off and drape it over her shoulders. Ruby blinked, momentarily stunned by the gesture, before thanking him with a smile. "I actually didn't mind. I've loved these old movies since forever."

"But why?" Oswald shook his head. "Why were your parents so cruel?"

Ruby gave him a wry look. "You had not one, but _two_ parents who loved you. I wasn't so lucky." She shrugged. "End of chain."

"But what is wrong with the way you look?" Oswald demanded, not satisfied with this answer. "You don't have a hunchback, you have all the right limbs, your skin is fine-"

"Wow, look at the time." Ruby stood up quickly. "We should start heading home."

Oswald looked up at her, stunned. "But-"

"Please." Ruby looked physically pained. "Just please drop it." She looked him right in the eye. Before, she'd looked a decade younger. Now, she seemed so much older. Or maybe she had years' worth of suffering on her shoulders. Just like him. Oswald swallowed down his indignity, his curiousity, and nodded. "Of course. I apologize."

Ruby looked relieved. "You have nothing to apologize for." She offered him her hand. He took it, wincing at the discomfort it caused his leg. Ruby quickly handed him his cane, for which he was grateful. He caught her eye again and smiled softly. "Thank you." He adjusted his tie. "This was the nicest evening I've had since..." He didn't finish that sentence. He didn't need to. They both knew the last few words.

 _...since Father died._

Ruby looped her arm through his. "Trust me, the pleasure was all mine." Oswald covered her hand with his, at a loss for words. He didn't want to spoil this moment. It felt like one last, sweet moment before returning to the dark world. Once they were outside, though, and the cold rushed out to greet them, he spoke up. "Let's go home."

Ruby allowed herself to lean closer to him. For warmth, she told herself. "I'd love that."

That was when a shadow fell over them. A shadow of metal, insanity, and vengeance.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Oswald shoved Ruby as the shadow grew. She hit the ground with a grunt. There was a loud thump, accompanied by the clinking of metal. Ruby raised her head as she rubbed it. She froze in her tracks. Standing before them was a cloaked figure wearing a combination of leather and metal. His face hid behind a mask and he carried a long, wickedly sharp sword in his fist. A shadow among shadows. A bringer of death. Oswald yelped as he sprung back. But he was too slow. The assailant grabbed him by the throat. Lifted him off his feet. Ruby scrambled to her feet, quickly taking refuge in the shadows. The metal mask was inches from Oswald's face. "My, my." Came the scratchy rumble. "Here we are."

Oswald murmured something as he tried to loosen those metal fingers.

"What?" The assailant released his grip by a fraction. "Speak up."

Oswald wheezed. "Who the devil are you?"

"Your guide to hell." Oswald frowned. The figure reached up with his free hand and pulled his mask up. Oswald felt his blood freeze in his veins. Theo Galavan smirked at him. "Hello, Penguin. And, goodbye." Without another word he rested the sword against Oswald's throat. It bit his damp flesh.

"LET GO OF HIM, YOU BRUTE!"

A second later something crashed into Theo, tilting him sideways like a tree in a whirlwind. He dropped Oswald, who fell in a gasping pile on the cement. He eyed the object that had saved his life: a motorcycle, now lying on its side. Oswald sat up, coughing, and rubbing his throat, when his hand came away sticky. The faint scent of copper tickled his nose. Oswald shivered.

Theo straightened. A trash can hit him in the head. It almost knocked him over. It also pissed him off. When a third flying object - a tire - Theo roared and swung his sword. The tire split in half. Its fragments flew apart, hitting different parts of the alley. Oswald lifted himself up with his cane, wincing. As he did, his eye landed on something upon the wall. Old, fading posters promoting Theo Galavan as mayor. Oswald spat on them. Then, he charged. He tackled Theo from behind, wrapping his thin arms around that thick throat. Theo thrashed and wriggled like a fish out of water. He clawed behind him and raked deep cuts into Oswald's back. Oswald channeled his pain into anger. "You aren't supposed to be alive!" He shouted. "I saw you die, you disgusting worm!"

Theo finally grabbed Oswald by the hair. He tore him off as one might remove a tic. Only tics don't scream that much. Oswald grasped at his hairline, trying to stop the fire burning in his scalp. He gave Theo a kick. Nothing. His feet hovered uselessly above the ground. "You cannot kill me," Theo purred, "any more than you can kill vengeance." That was when a rope of sorts, rubbery and long, reached out and coiled around Theo's legs. Tightened. Yelping Theo fell to the side like a tipped cow. Oswald landed a couple of feet away, rubbing sorely at his hairline.

From the shadows Ruby watched. Relieved. Her arm released Theo's legs, slowly winding back to her. Bones regrew beneath the rubbery flesh. In the space of a second, her arm had returned to normal. But she was far from done. Ruby closed her eyes and began to focus.

Theo began tearing through the alley, cutting anything and everything in half. The screeching of metal clanged through the greasy air. "Where are you!?" He screamed. "Who dares to challenge Azrael?" Oswald paused, a broken bottle in his hand. _Azrael?_ Shrugging off his curiousity he charged. "Hey!" He yelled, catching Theo's attention. A second later he was ducking and swerving past the singing blade. He jabbed at Theo with his switchblade. But it was like trying to stab lightning.

"Oswald!" Ruby's voice rung out. "Move!" Oswald fell back immediately. He'd barely gotten out of the way when a giant, flesh-colored ball sped past him. Slamming into Theo full-force. The cloaked madman went flying. "What in the name of...?" Oswald pressed himself against the grimy wall. Shocked beyond words. Especially when the ball zoomed against the wall, bounced off it, and rolled at the speed of light. It was like watching a giant billiard ball roam across the world's biggest - and dirtiest - table.

It stopped for a split second. "GO!" It screamed at him in a husky voice. Not waiting for an answer, it sped towards Theo.

He'd expected it. Somehow rising, he held his sword out. Ready for the ball's next move. It came, but not in the way he anticipated. Rather than go towards him, it lurched upward and began bouncing like a basket ball. Crushed him beneath its weight. If he hadn't pointed his sword upward, then it would have bounced again.

Instead, there came a blood-curling scream.

Oswald recognized the voice, and this confused him even more. He ran towards the scene, a broken bottle in his hand. As he watched, horrified, the ball straightened. It was too dark to make out its features, aside from its hulking, broad-shouldered figure. He spun aroumd, searching for a better weapon, and found a cracked knife lying on the ground. Perfect.

A few things happened while Oswald turned his back. The creature turned to clay. Melting. Slipping away. It puddled away from Theo's sword, which was now bathed crimson. The clay feebly crawled away, taking on a new form as it did. First, a pair of feet in battered pleather boots. Slender legs in ripped jeans. A light jacket beneath a crimson T-shirt. A head of curly hair, and a round face. Big, dark blue eyes. Oswald faced the scene again and gasped when he saw her. Those eyes stared at Oswald pleadingly, but with dying strength. She winced, clutching her shirt. It was only then that Oswald realized that her shirt hadn't been crimson during the evening's genesis.

It had been white.

"Ruby!" Oswald threw the knife. It flew like a bird towards Theo. Landed in his neck, all the way to the hilt. His blood spilled like melting snow. He noticed. But rather than scream in panic, he just shrugged. "Such is fate." Azrael turned to the creature that he'd just executed. It had resumed its human form, but he hadn't been fooled. He'd stayed in Arkham for a few days prior to embarking on this mission. Azrael had seen the monsters , spotting them felt almost second-nature. Hideous, nightmarish ghouls straight out of a lunatic's hallucinations. Just like this thing, twisting its shape into all sorts of horrendous forms. Almost as heinous as the Son of Gotham.

He watched, pleased, as the Penguin knelt beside the monster. Looking close to tears he gathered her in his arms. Staring at the growing stain with nothing short of terror. It reminded Azrael of another life, when this same man had held a loved one in his arms. Watched her die. Funny how history repeats itself.

He could of course just kill the crippled bird and be done with him. But judging by the look of anguish on his face, he was suffering more than Azrael's sword could do.

Smirking, Azrael holstered his sword and marched out of the alley. The Son of Gotham awaited.

Oswald cradled Ruby in his arms, trying to keep the tears in. Ruby heaved, eyelids fluttering, as she clutched her side. Blood painted her hands. "This is gonna spoil my whole day." She coughed. Oswald hushed her. "Don't speak. You need your strength."

"Why didn't you go?" Ruby closed her eyes. Tears glided across her cheeks. "I told you to go."

"I'm a criminal." Oswald replied. "Disobeying commands is set in the job description." Ruby chuckled, just as he'd hoped, but the laughter ended in another hacking fit. This one stained her lips scarlet. Oswald's heart rate picked up. "Come." He helped her to her feet. "We must head for a hospital immediately."

Ruby shook her head dizzily. "Noo..." She recalled Arkham, how the doctors had poked and prodded her with needles. She recollected how they'd pumped her body with who knows what kind of drugs. The kind that either took away her ability or reduced her to a human puddle for days afterward. But above all, Ruby remembered the pain.

Oswald grabbed her by the face and forced her to look at him. His eyes were bright with tears, yet his expression was fierce. "Ruby. Besides being my friend, you are also my servant. Right?"

Ruby nodded, looking dazed.

"And as my servant, you must follow my orders. Right?"

Ruby nodded again.

"Good." Oswald pushed some hair out of Ruby's eyes. "That is why I order you not to die."

* * *

The next four hours were the longest that Oswald could remember since Father's funeral.

He half-dragged, half-carried Ruby to the closest hospital. It turned out to be the same one he'd tried to kill Falcone in over a year ago. Funny, the coincedences of life. The nurses had tried to make excuses at first, saying that the emergency room was full (as always) and the doctors were too busy. Without thinking twice, Oswald had removed one of the jewelled buttons from his shirt's cuff. It was an emerald the size of a pinball. The second the doctor saw it, dollar signs replaced his pupils.

Ruby had been placed on a gurney. Wheeled away. Pale as death and scared as a mouse, she turned to look at Oswald. Her eyes had pleaded him not to leave her there. He'd silently promised that he wouldn't. Ruby had reached out to him as two orderlies pushed her away. Right until the elevator door closed. Oswald had dropped his head, trying to keep it together.

Ruby had lain there, panting, as her sticky clothes were cut away from her body and peeled away. She had crossed one arm atop her small breasts, the other over her gushing wound. She had tightened her legs tightly as her pants were forcibly removed. The doctors stared down at her with utter indifference. They had seen hundreds of naked bodies in their careers. One more wasn't going to break the shield they'd formed in their minds. But Ruby hadn't carec. She had just wanted to scream at them, "Don't look at me!" She had winced as the blood crusting around her wound was roughly wiped away with a cloth. The doctors had murmured amongst themselves, never once looking at her. Then, they had pressed an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. Only it hadn't been oxygen seeping down her throat.

Ruby's eyelids had fluttered. The last thought she had managed to hold onto was: _I hope Oswald didn't see what I really am._

* * *

Now, at two a.m, Oswald sat on one of those cold plastic chairs. His cane was leaning against the bed, its polished body gleaming. He watched the I.V's bags shrink a little bit at a time, their liquid scarlet dripping down a tube. Giving Ruby new life. She lay under the covers, wearing a thin hospital gown, sleeping like a log. Her hair spread across the pillow like ginger roots, all tangled and wild. Her face, which had seemed so lifeless before, had taken on a healthier complexion.

The blood transfusion would take another two hours, the doctor said. Due to her blood loss, her hemoglobin level was at 3.5 when it should have been from 13 to 15. Just a hair's width away from death. That was as bad as it got. The sword hadn't hit any vital organs. It had scraped a few bones and punctured a kidney. They'd been forced to remove it. A kidney transplant would be discussed in the future, if the paitent so desired. But, they'd assured Oswald, one can survive without a multitude of organs. Tonsils, spleen, a lung, stomach, colon...and a kidney.

Oswald scooted closer to the bed without getting up from the chair. His leg, which always hurt, had been pushed to its limit tonight. But right now, he didn't care about that. Reaching out, he pushed some hair out of Ruby's still face. A finger lingered, tracing her cheekbone. Her skin was cool, like the other side of the pillow. Tears filled Oswald's eyes. "I never should have brought you along this evening." He said sadly. "If I hadn't...yes, I would have missed out on the most wonderful hours I have had in a while. But at least you would be safe." No reaction. A tear ran down his face. "At times...I fear that I'm a disease. I contaminate everything - everyone - that I touch. Normally, I revel in that. My enemies fall to their knees, kissing my feet."

He chuckled weakly, remembering just a few of his victims. Fish Mooney, screaming as she toppled over the roof's edge. Those two disgusting sorority boys, mocking him when he'd still been a pathetic nobody. Grace, crying and screaming as his knife sank in her throat. Theo Galavan...

Images flashed by in a second, or perhaps even less. Theo Galavan back from the grave, robed in steel and insanity. The cold bite of metal against Oswald's throat. Ruby throwing everything that could be used as a weapon. Her apparently rolling herself into a ball to hit him. Amusing idea. In the shadows, she had truly seemed like someone...something...else. But above else he remembered the scream. And the blood.

Oswald shook his head. He raised his hands and pressed the tears back into their ducts. "Everyone I care about dies as well." He swallowed hard. Staring down at the sleeping face. It was all too easy to remember it wide awake, smiling and laughing, smirking with knowledge, or even crying. He would have taken any of those emotions over this. "Your pain will be paid for a thousand times over."

As if that speech had actually been a magic spell, Ruby's eyelids fluttered. Movement shifted beneath. The steady breathing disrupted. Oswald's heart stopped. He leaned forward a little, daring to hope. Ruby's eyes slowly opened, wincing at the bright flourescent light. She held a hand up to block it out. The tube in her elbow went taut. The I.V edged closer. Ruby gasped at the sight. She lifted her arm again, examining the tube with something akin to horror. Her breathing quickening she reached to yank the needle out.

"No!"

Ruby twisted around. Gasped again, clapping a hand over her mouth.

"Please." Oswald said gently. "Do not pull it out. You lost a lot of blood, and your hemoglobin levels must return to normal."

"Oswald..." Tears streamed from Ruby's cheeks like liquid silver. Oswald fought the urge to wipe them away. "I'm so sorry." She whispered. "I couldn't keep you safe."

Oswald seized her hand. Tight enough to show that he was serious. Ruby blinked, staring down first at their hands and then back at him. His expression was gentle, but firm. "Ruby, listen to me. You are the reason I'm still breathing."

Ruby blinked again.

"If you hadn't distracted him, he would have bled me out like a pig. I owe you my life." He squeezed her hand. "I'm just sorry that your heroic act cost you so dearly."

Ruby frowned. "What's wrong with me?" _Besides the obvious._

"You lost nearly enough blood to die," Oswald winced as he reported this, "and a kidney."

"Oh." Ruby grimaced, rubbing her side. "I guess that explains the ache."

Oswald gave a tiny smile. "The wit in your words is surely a good sign." He quickly grew serious again. "Ruby...I know who did this to you. I know not how he lives, but I assure you that he won't be doing that for long."

Ruby blinked a third time, then looked away. Pushed some hair behind her ear. "Oswald, I don't want you risking your life over something like this."

"You almost died!" Oswald nearly shouted.

"So did you." Ruby gave a shy smile. "I guess we kinda saved each other, huh?"

Oswald's anger vanished as quickly as it had come. He straightened his tie, nodding. "I suppose we did." Ruby leaned forward as much as her I.V would allow. Then, she wrapped her arms around his middle. Nuzzling his chest, directly below his prominent collarbone. Oswald responded immediately, holding her close. He rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing deeply. They stayed like that for a long moment, silently rejoicing each other's survival.

And then a certain voice tickled Oswald's ears. A deep, male voice that used to speak to him with devotion. Right before he got 'fixed'.

Butch Gilzean. That one-handed Judas.

Oswald's heart quickly thickened into steel. Reluctantly, he let go of Ruby. She looked up at him questioningly. He rested a hand on her cheek. "Wait here. Rest. I'll be a moment." Ruby nodded, still worried, and watched him leave. Hugged herself. Grateful that he hadn't seen the monster that she was. She'd held back during the fight. Just in case the lighting had been good enough for Oswald to see. But it hadn't, and he'd stayed in the dark. Good. That issue quickly gave way for the greater one.

Tonight, they had met a greater monster than she could ever be. He had come back from the dead, hell-bent on vengeance because it gave him purpose in a world without purpose. He had tried to kill both her and the man that she had sworn to protect.

Next time they met, Ruby would more than gladly return the favor.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Butch Gilzean had always seen himself as a marble statue, like the ones his parents had photographed during their vacation to Italy years ago...without him. Towering over others. Imposing. Solid. Impenetrable. Capable of handling whatever the elements could throw at him. He'd grown up with that belief, when he'd beat up other kids for their lunch money or treats. He'd upheld that faith all the way through high school, when girls blanched at the sight of him and guys ran for cover. Butch had had a reputation by the time he'd dropped out at seventeen.

His fearsome reputation had only grown once he'd joined Fish Mooney's ranks. He'd started out as an expendable thug. Then, he'd moved on up to personal bodyguard and right-hand man. All of Gotham had feared him, both the innocent and the guilty. Well, except for the Maronis and Falcones. One would have had better luck scaring whatever god that they believed in than they'd have trying to make those families shake. But other than those high-and-mighty spaghetti-munchers, everyone feared Butch. Even the Penguin had, in the beginning. Right before he'd taken away the light in Butch's light that was Fish. Made Butch his slave and chopped off Butch's hand.

Then, Tabitha had come. Fierce and beautiful, like some multicolored snake ready to strike. She'd taken his breath away. Made him feel like no one else had in ages.

And right now, he was forced to watch her lying there. On the verge of death because her psycho brother had somehow come back from the grave. Not the sort of event you'd expect to unfold.

Butch stared at her gentle, sleeping face. She was so beautiful, yet she rarely used her looks for personal gain. Tabitha almost always relied solely on her combat skills. It was like she didn't even know how pretty she was. Kind of like Fish.

"I didn't think I'd feel like this again." He whispered to her, hoping she could somehow hear. There was no response. He leaned closer. Tempted to kiss her. His lips ached for hers. But he could - would - never do such a thing. Not when she was knocked out. It wouldn't have been real, or right. "I guess what I'm trying to say is..." Butch trailed off, unable to continue. But if he didn't continue, then it might be too late. He broke down into sobs over her sleeping body, desperately trying to keep himself contained.

"Well, don't stop now. I was just getting misty."

Butch spun around. Standing in the doorway was the last person he'd ever expected - or wanted - to see again. The Penguin. Last time he'd seen the crippled freak, the latter had been 'rehabilitated' in Arkham. He'd gone completely flaccid, losing whatever toughness and demand of respect that he'd once had. Tabitha, just for a laugh, had mimicked his dead mother right to his face. Nothing. Butch had voted to let the Penguin live, going against Tabitha's blood-lust for the first and only time.

God, how wrong he'd been.

"What're you doing here?" He snarled, hoping his tears weren't too visible.

The Penguin held up a bouquet of wilting roses that looked best suited in a garbage bag. "Paying my respects." He lurched forward, placing the flowers on the table before Tabitha's bed. Butch instinctively moved closer to the unconscious woman, intending to shield her with his body. The Penguin eyed Tabitha with indifference, as if seeing a lame pigeon in the park. What Butch didn't know was that on the inside, Oswald was brewing with joy. With satisfaction. "She's looked better, I must say." He commented with feigned sympathy.

"You will not hurt her." Butch growled, softly but firmly.

The Penguin gave him a look of disbelief. "Why would I do that? Oh!" He held up a finger as if just having an epiphany. "I know! Because she stabbed my mother IN THE BACK!" By the end he was screaming like the dangerous lunatic he was. Butch whipped out a gun. Aimed it at the Penguin's face.

There was a gasp somewhere behind the Penguin. Butch didn't care. "If you touch her," he rumbled, "I will kill you."

A hand shot out and seized the gun by the nuzzled. Both men stared in surprise. The gun was torn from Butch's hand. Two heads turned to see a young woman standing by the door, clinging to her I.V like her life depended on it. How she'd managed to grab that damn weapon, Butch wouldn't know for a while. But his first impression of that girl was not an exceptional one, and her hospital gown didn't help. She looked like the millions of other Plain Janes he'd seen walking down the streets. Average height and build. Curly hair cut in a pixie style. Round face. Chin as weak as office coffee. All around forgettable.

What wasn't forgettable, however, was the look on the Penguin's face when he saw her. He quickly limped back towards her. "Ruby, what are you doing out of bed?" He demanded in a concerned tone. The Penguin glanced at her I.V, which was three-quarters empty. "You still have some blood to take in." Gently taking her by the shoulders, he tried to steer her around. "Go back to your room, please? I'll be there in a moment."

"Uh, actually..." Ruby twisted around, holding up the gun. "If you don't mind, I'd like to stand by." She glared daggers at Butch. He was almost intimidated. "My advice? Don't bother taking another weapon. I'll just grab that one, too."

"Who the fuck are you?" Butch snapped. Cracked a nasty smile. "You look like one of those junkie trannies my buddies hook up with on Saturdays." The shocked look on her face was so priceless that Butch burst out laughing. That laughter died when Oswald's palm collided with Butch's cheek. Butch stopped, dead in his tracks, and glared at Oswald. The Penguin glared with twice the hatred. "Watch your mouth," he hissed, "or I'll sew it shut with your own dried blood vessels." Butch grumbled but ceased looking at Ruby. The young woman seized the occasion to edge closer, staring at the woman in the bed. A dusky beauty. She had lovely high cheekbones and soft dark hair rippling down to her shoulders. Her lips were plump and pink, like fresh strawberries. Even beneath the covers, Ruby could tell that the woman harbored an enviously voluptuous figure.

She was a true femme fatale, this one.

"He has to pay, Butch." Oswald said to Butch, recapturing the big man's attention.

Butch frowned. "Who? Azrael?"

"No! Galavan!" Oswald replied. "I personally am not buying this whole uber-villain nonsense. I mean, if he wanted to wear leather, he should just wear leather. This is Gotham City! No one cares, right?" He cracked a laugh at the end. Butch remained as impassive as stone. Oswald's expression became firm. "We've all suffered by his hand. You, me, my mother..." His breath hitched. Ruby grasped his hand. Squeezed it. He returned the gesture before pointing at Ruby. "Her," he gestured at the lady in the bed, "and now, his own sister."

Butch's gaze trailed down towards the bed. He looked so miserable in that moment that Ruby couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for him. When Butch met Oswald's eyes again, his own were fueled with determination. Oswald lit the fuse. "Galavan must die."

Butch seemed to contemplate this. Eyeing Oswald and Ruby like they were species that he hadn't yet identified. Wondering if they could be trusted. At last, he spoke up. "And when he does, he'll leave us alone?"

Oswald opened his mouth to answer, then paused. Contemplated. Grinned mischievously. "Possibly." Ruby rolled her eyes.

"Promise." Butch growled.

Oswald sighed. "Jeez. Alright, fine. Whatever. Where is he?!"

* * *

Half an hour later found Oswald sitting on the corner of Ruby's bed, his long pale fingers nervously drumming. He'd been doing that for a while now. Ever since Butch had left, a paper filled with instructions in his beefy hand, Oswald had been a twitching wreck of anticipation. More than once Ruby had tried striking up a conversation, to no avail. He was both excited and terrified at the task at hand. She could hardly blame him. Even if the blood transfusion would give her a late start, she was still shaking at the idea of facing Azrael again.

Oswald grabbed the water pitcher. The metal rim rattled against the plastic as he poured himself a drink. Slurped it down. Ruby found it hard to watch. Still bound to the I.V, she had limited movement. Her mind, however, was racing. She stared at Oswald's back. He'd shrugged off his coat, unknowingly allowing her to see the wounds he'd been carrying. His entire back was crusted with blood, and three deep cuts cut through fabric and flesh. She remembered now, where he'd gotten those. Azrael.

Ruby could have prevented those cuts from happening. But she hadn't. Why? To preserve her secret. That reason felt so shallow now. What secret was worth spilling blood over?

She inhaled deeply. While she couldn't undo what had happened, she could make up for it. And she knew how.

Ruby's hand connected with Oswald's shoulder. He twisted around in a flash. His eyes were wild and bright, like a cornered animal. Without thinking Ruby's hand crawled up from his shoulder to his jaw. Calming. It seemed to work, at least a bit. Some of the agitation seemed to leak from his eyes, replaced by tired recognition.

"You sure you want to do this?" Ruby gestured to his back. "You look like a bleeding zebra back there."

Oswald's eyes widened. "Oh!" He quickly grabbed his coat, trying to cover it back up, but Ruby spoke up. "I can help. If you want."

The look in those icy-blue eyes was a fusion of disbelief, curiousity, and good-natured mockery. "Yes. Of course you can."

"Why didn't you get those looked at earlier?" Ruby blurted out. "They could get infected."

Oswald paused. In all honesty, he hadn't bothered to call a doctor for his own condition because his primary focus had been Ruby. He hadn't cared that he'd ruined one of his favorite silken shirt. He hadn't cared that his hairline had felt like a zillion angry red ants had tap-danced on it. Hell, he hadn't even cared about the pain twisted in his back like a giant snake. He'd just wanted Ruby to be cared for, and couldn't think of himself until she had.

Now, it just seemed inconsequential. He said so...the last bit, that is.

Ruby gave him a look. "Getting an infected back is so _not_ inconsequential." Dragging the I.V along, she crawled out of the covers and came up behind Oswald. He turned to look back first from his right shoulder, then his left. "Wait, what-?"

Ruby grabbed the shirt by the tears and gave a yank. The silk tore beneath her fingers like ash. Oswald shrieked and crossed his arms, holding the soiled cloth against his chest. His cheeks, usually like freckled milk, were quickly adopting the hue of beetroot. "Ruby!" He snapped. "If we weren't friends, I'd have your hands chopped off for this!"

 _Why bother?_ She thought. _They'd just grow back._

Ruby winced, eyeing the man's back. For one thing, she could see the shoulderblades and vertebrae all too clearly. But more importantly, there were three long vertical gashes going from Oswald's hipbones to his shoulders. They didn't look terribly deep, but each one was nestled in a bed of dried, crusty blood. "Okay." Ruby pretended to fumble through her jacket's pockets. Earlier, she'd had Oswald lay it on the bed for her so that she could distract him via crossword puzzles. No dice. Now, her only article of clothing surviving tonight would get some better use. "Here. I have this cream I brought with me from home, just in case."

"Oh?" Oswald tried to twist around to look at it. Ruby quickly pushed his face forward again. Hiding her empty hands. "Yeah." She confirmed, praying she sounded more confident that she felt. "It's, uh, special. Only use it for special occasions."

"It sounds like a foolish use for such a miraculous cream." Oswald mused. "But it is yours. Do with it as you wish."

Ruby bowed her head slightly even though her friend couldn't see it. "Thanks, buddy." She stared down at her hands, willing them to focus. She watched, her heart pounding a million miles per hour, as the skin and bone alike softened like damp earth. Dribbling. Almost dripping onto the bedsheets. Swallowing hard, Ruby spoke. "Here it comes."

Oswald sighed. "No need for such a dramatic- _aiiiiiiiih!_ " He screamed as what felt like hot, sticky clay spread across his stinging back like molten lava. Quickly slapping his hands over his mouth, Oswald struggled to contain himself. A squelching noise, not unlike the sound one makes when stepping through mud, echoed in his ears. All of the dormant pain came alive, hell-bent on a rematch. Tears beaded in his eyes. He blinked them back.

Ruby was panting slightly, trying to stay focused, as she watched her melting hands flow over the cuts like a peach waterfall. Each drop of the gooey substance plopped over the cuts, sealing them shut. As she watched, the red, irritated skin returned to normal. Oswald's restrained yells died down to whimpers. Which meant this tofu turkey could be removed from the oven. Ruby quickly retracted her hands. They solidified, reclaiming their natural shape. At the same time the clay, disconnected from its owner, dried in a heartbeat. Cracked. Fell away to reveal three vertical pink scars on otherwise perfect pale skin.

Ruby grinned. Blew on her hands like a cowboy with his guns. "Yep." She announced. "You're good as new."

"Truthfully?" Quickly grabbing the upper blanket to cover himself with, Oswald took the cane and got to his feet. He hobbled towards the small mirror hanging on the opposite wall. Grabbed it. Held it at such an angle that he could see his shoulder. When he saw scar tissue where divided flesh had once been, he couldn't hide his surprise. "I..." He turned to Ruby. She had lowered her gaze, just in case the blanket had fallen off. A blossom of appreciation twirled in Oswald's chest. Warmth. He gently set the mirror back. Limped to Ruby. Still holding the blanket around him like a shield, he sat down. "Ruby?"

She glimpsed up to find a cool hand on her cheek. Her heart slammed against her ribs hard enough for it to hurt. Indigo eyes looked upward to icy-blue ones. Shock meets gratitude. "Thank you." Oswald whispered. "I...I don't know how you did it, but..." He swallowed. "I can almost believe that I can face Galavan now."

Ruby's breath hitched. "Please tell me you told Butch to get some super-duper weapon or something."

Oswald brightened. "Indeed, I requested exactly that. Please turn around." Ruby did as she was told. The blanket was tossed beside her. Oswald's dress jacket was snatched. Slik slid against skin. "From what I can gather, resurrection both strengthens the body and fractures the mind. That would explain both Galavan's odd behavior and seeming immunity to basic physical blows. After all, when you crushed him - by the way, I still can't figure out how you accomplished that," Ruby gulped, "it caused some damage, but not the amount that it should have. Why, any normal person would have been pleading for mercy at that point."

Ruby smirked. "I can be pretty badass. But then again, so can you."

Oswald chuckled as he turned to face her. The jacket covered a surprising amount of pallid flesh. All that was visible was an upside-down triangle of skin just below the collarbone. "I've been called many things in life," he admitted, "but never 'badass'."

Ruby shrugged. Smiling back at him.

In that moment came a knock. The two barely had time to look when Butch emerged in the room, carrying...

"A bazooka?!" Ruby cackled. "Wow, and I used to think Wile E. Coyote went overboard!"

"In this case, one can never be too careful." Oswald nodded curtly at Butch. "I'll be there in a moment."

"Hurry up!" Butch snapped. "I just want that guy dead."

"As do I." Oswald replied coldly. "But if you don't let me say goodbye to Ruby, then you will be joining Galavan in Hell tonight."

Butch opened his mouth. Shut it.

Oswald turned to Ruby, suddenly seeming years younger. His face was bleached. His eyes were wide with uncertainty. But there was a glow to him that'd been absent before. He inhaled. "I..."

Ruby trapped him in a hug before he could say more. He responded automatically. Holding her close. Butch looked away, trying to keep his feelings in their place. Oswald closed his eyes, breathed in deep, and whispered, "Thank you again, Ruby. I'd know not what to do without you."

Ruby squeezed him in her arms. Snuggled in his coat. Felt the warmth of his skin through it. "Right back at you."

Oswald pulled away and looked her right in the eye. His expression was gentle but firm. "Do not join us until the doctors allow you to leave. I want your hemoglobin level back to normal. That's an order."

Ruby saluted him. Oswald patted her cheek before departing. He didn't look back, hobbling down the corridor. Butch trailed behind, the bazooka perched on his thick shoulder. The doctors had taken one look at that thing and cowered under their desks. He'd taken it as a sign to walk right in. It was good to be in charge. Butch smirked. "Who's soft and sentimental this time?" He fired that question at Oswald's hunched back. The only response he got was a glare that would have sent Hannibal of Carthage running for the hills.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Gotham was beautiful at night, its overall broken appearance hidden by shadows. The filthy buildings with barred windows were just towering, featureless giants. The streets were crowded with bustling lights. Sirens came and went like sloping hills. Smog blotted out the stars but cowered before the moon, big and yellow and bright. It was easier to pretend that this was just like any other city. Normal. Mostly safe.

But then, dawn would break and snap every illusion in two like a piece of kindling. Reminding you that this was the city of sin.

Ruby had been living here all her life, and she still found it daunting how sky-high the crime rates were compared to other cities. It was like comparing a batch of fresh, sweet-smelling mushrooms to a hulking, reeking, infected one with cobwebs across its tob. Gotham...there was something special about it that drew in criminals. Was it the location? Several hundred miles from the closest city? Maybe. Was it the lax police service? Probably. Either way, wicked was the norm here. Everyone, or almost everyone, broke the law as easily as others might break twigs.

That was why spotting a single criminal would be a challenge. But not impossible.

Perched on a roof, Ruby slipped another dried apricot in her mouth. She still had a pack left. Oswald had shoved them in her hand right before she'd left. He'd said that they were filled with iron, something that Ruby's body needed right now. As she munched, listening to several police radios at the same time, Ruby hoped that Butch and Oswald hadn't killed each other already. She didn't doubt that Oswald could win. But Butch was the one carrying the bazooka, after all.

That was why she had to hurry up and find this asshole.

As if on cue, one of the radios began prattling louder than the others. A few words caught Ruby's attention. 'Cloak'. 'Danger'. 'Sword'. Her arm stretched out. The radio was three feet away. She brought it back to the rest of her. She listened closely, eventually picking up on the words 'Wayne Manor'.

"And Bingo was his name-o." Ruby snatched the walkie-talkie and pushed a button.

Butch's gruff voice came through. "Gilzean."

Ruby sighed. "Pass me Oswald, please."

Butch sniggered. "Why, so you can have phone sex?"

Ruby's face became the color of a pomegranate.

"What are you saying?!" Oswald's voice broke through, hot with anger. "Give me that, you dimwit!" There was a bit of static as the walkie-talkie was passed. A second later that melodic voice came through again, sweet as honey. "Ruby?"

Ruby smirked. "Hey."

"I apologize for such vulgar behavior." Oswald said earnestly. "But rest assured: he'll be changing his tune soon enough."

"I'll bet." Ruby remembered him telling her how he'd chopped off Butch's hand. At the time, she'd pitied the guy. Now that she'd met him...nah. "How's the road trip coming along?"

Oswald moaned. "Please do not ask. Butch has no taste in music, he knows nothing of culture, and his driving skills have gotten rusty."

"Hey!" Butch's distant voice protested. Ruby chuckled.

"What of you, my dear?" Oswald asked. "Have you found that masked menace's location?"

"Yep." Ruby replied proudly. "Apparently, he's at Wayne Manor. I'll start snooping around there."

"Yes, you do that." Oswald replied thoughtfully. "Thank you. We'll catch up. But are you certain that you feel well? When you left, you still had the bandage on your arm."

Ruby held up the arm in question. The elbow had a wad of gauze taped over the puncture wound. In its center was a thick red blob. But it was starting to go brown. "I'll be fine, Oswald. Don't worry. If I start getting woozy, I'll let you know."

"Please do." Oswald said. "And whatever you do, do NOT confront Azrael alone. That man is a beast in human skin."

"I won't." Ruby promised. "Thanks."

There was a tiny pause. "For what?"

"For caring." Ruby replied shyly. She heard a faint choking noise, followed by Oswald's hushed tone. "I could thank you for the very same reason."

Ruby smiled, grateful that he couldn't see her blush. After exchanging their goodbyes, the two hung up. Ruby tucked the walkie-talkie in her pocket. Grateful that Oswald had given her clothes...by taking the suitcase intended for Tabitha, filled with whatever an overnight patient might need. At first, Ruby had felt a little guilty for stealing a bedridden woman's clothes. But a) Ruby needed them more than Tabitha did and b) Tabitha had killed Oswald's mother and gotten away with it.

Cracking both her neck and her knuckles, Ruby spread her arms out like a crucifixion victim. The skin on her arms, sides, and thighs began to stretch out like dough, thinning as it did so. The pieces connected, spreading, flapping in the wind. Within minutes, Ruby had become the human equivalent of a flying squirrel. Only problem was, she had never tried this form before. Oh, and there were thirty stories between her and the ground. So, yeah, she couldn't afford to fuck up.

Ruby squeezed her eyes shut. Leaped.

The wind picked her up, billowing in her makeshift wings. Ruby froze as her body glided, too afraid to move. But after a few minutes of smooth sailing, she slowly began to unwind. With relaxation came excitement. Ruby stared down to make sure it was real. Yep. The skyscrapers rose on either side of her. The cars below were no larger than pinheads, shining bright. Sirens sounded distant from up here. The air was freezing and sharp, like a knife of ice.

The excitement doubled. She, Ruby Anneliese Sinclair, was _flying!_ Her heart burst with joy like a balloon ready to pop. She began whooping and yelling with glee, twirling and swooping as she grew accustomed to this new form. Ruby flapped her wings and rose higher. The icy wind cut like daggers through her clothes and skin, ruffling her hair. Ruby grinned despite the fact that it filled her cheeks with air. Eyed her watch. Okay. It was midnight. She could hold onto this form for six hours. But she wasn't worried. At this speed, Ruby would be at destination in ten minutes.

Howling with victory, Ruby jetted through the muggy night air.

* * *

It was amazing to watch the change of scenery as she neared her target. The skyscrapers dropped away like sunburned skin. Fewer lights dotted the landscape. The buildings became spotless villas. Small patches of paradise. Wildlife grew on all sides. It was an inky sea at her feet. Finally, Wayne Manor came into view. It was thrice as large as the Van Dahl mansion. In fact, it looked big enough to be its own state. It had a parking lot and a garden filled with all kinds of fruit trees. Marble, brick, and cement towered triumphantly in the air, speaking of generations-long elegance.

But all the elegance in the world couldn't erase a parent's death.

The question was, what did that beast want with the last Wayne?

"Oh, Azrael," She sang lowly to herself, "come out, come out, wherever you are." From the corner of her eye she spotted the parking lot. Oh, well. It was as good a place to start as any. Slowly, she thrust her feet downward and began to retract her wings. Bit by bit, the skin was reabsorbed. With each lost centimeter she fell a little faster. But not enough to panic. Finally, her feet touched the cracked cement. Ruby held up her arms for inspection. Yep. Perfectly normal once again.

Ruby was about to contact Oswald again (and give Butch a good reply for his earlier comment) when the screeching of tires grated her ears. She spun around as blinding lights burst from the dark. Glass shattered. Ruby ducked behind a tree as a car careened out the door, a man lying on its hood. His hood twisting behind him. Ruby's heart darkened at the sight. Forgetting all about contacting Oswald, she ran out from her hiding spot. Azrael was no longer there. The car skidded to a stop. Ruby turned her head just in time to see a figure climb out of the vehicle.

She froze. Recognition flooded her. It was a young man, maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. Slender, with fine dark clothes and neatly-combed black hair. His gentle, yet intelligent face had been all over the news a year or so back. If it were possible, he looked even more scared now than he had then.

Ruby immediately understood why.

"Bruce!" Ruby shouted. "Bruce Wayne!"

Bruce looked around in confusion, wondering what stranger knew his name, when a pair of hands clamped on his shoulders. He spun around with his fists raised. Two hands closed around his fists. Yet his shoulders remained bound. "What-?"

"Bruce." A young woman knelt to look him in the eye. He had never seen her before, but there was something about her that soothed him. Like a forgotten friend, or distant relative. The young woman glanced around anxiously before turning back to him. It was then that Bruce noticed that the woman had four arms: two were resting on his shoulders while the other two were holding his fists. It surprised him, yes, but scare him it didn't.

The young woman noticed him staring at her extra limbs. Blushed. "Okay." She said. "My name's Ruby. I don't want to hurt you. If I let go of your fists, will you promise not to hit me?"

Bruce nodded slowly, still watching her. "How are you able to do that?"

Ruby released him. Her extra pair of arms sank back into her sides like melting wax. In a moment, they were gone. Like they'd never been there in the first place. "Let's just say I took my vitamins." Her joking tone vanished instantly. "This is important. Is anyone strange hanging around here?"

"Yes." Bruce looked relieved. He may have been strong, but he was still just a kid. "He..." The young man turned to the car. Gawking in confusion, he knelt before it. Peered under it. Examined the hood. "He was here a moment ago. I don't-"

A whip around his throat cut him off. His hands flew to the cord, trying to tear it off. Wheezes escaped his throat.

"Bruce!" Ruby's fingers were around the leathery vein as well. Pulling and tugging, fearing for the young man. What felt like a truck rammed into her, knocking her to the ground. Ruby groaned, rubbing her throbbing head, as she looked up. There Azrael stood, winding the whip around his hand as he neared Bruce. He began to walk away, dragging the wheezing Bruce behind him like a cow. Bruce, whose face was losing all color, had no choice but to follow.

It was now or never.

Ruby's form melted away, spreading across the pavement. Azrael, barely noticing, stepped right into it. Perfect. With a loud sucking noise the puddle began to bubble. Azrael's feet disappeared into the clay-like substance. His shins. His knees. A now startled Azrael let go of the whip. Bruce toppled to the ground, gasping and choking as he undid the cord. Azrael didn't notice. He just whipped out his sword and started slashing at the substance. "What sorcery is this?!" He demanded. "Reveal yourself, demon!"

"If you insist!" The puddle sped across the cement, taking Azrael with it. The puddle rose, becoming a clay wave, and crashed against the wall. Azrael remained pressed there like a fly in amber. The liquid fell away, quickly reforming into a shuddering Ruby. "God, that was awful!" She commented before running. Kneeling beside the heaving boy, Ruby touched his neck. It was red and slightly scratched, but unharmed. She patted his back. "You okay?"

Bruce managed a nod as he coughed.

Ruby smiled. That smile fell away when a shadow draped across them both. Without thinking she threw herself over Bruce. The sword sliced through her skin as though it were butter. Still she refused to move. "Enough fun and games!" Azrael groaned, as if speaking itself were a burden. He kept jabbing at Ruby. Trying to get her to move. But since she'd expected it, Ruby had turned her skin to clay. No blood came out. No bones were hit. Azrael was hitting a wall. Ruby held on tightly to Bruce.

"Prepare to die!" Azrael demanded.

Ruby glared up. "You first!" Her hair grew as she spoke, winding and twisting, reaching her ankles. It sprung to life and whipped around Azrael. Picked him up and threw him a good three feet away. Ruby smirked. Her hair returned to normal. Rising with Bruce, she kept the young man behind him. Azrael stumbled to his feet, gasping and groaning, before meeting her gaze. Pure hatred simmered from his own. Extracting his sword again, he lunged forward.

Gunshots fired from behind. Ruby lost count how many. Two. Three. Five. A figure appeared from the foggy rear gate. Overcoat flapping. Eyes blazing. Gun raised. Jim Gordon.

Azrael turned to face him. "Unexpected." He murmured.

Jim Gordon emptied his gun on Azrael. At last, the monster fell. Ruby didn't realize how much her body had stiffened until it was over. Jim eyed his kill. Satisfied, he shambled to the duo. "You okay?" He asked Bruce, surveying him for damage. The aristocratic boy nodded. "Yes. Thanks to Ruby here."

Jim suddenly turned to her. Shock draped across his features. Giggling despite how scared she'd been, Ruby held up a peace sign. "Howdy." Jiim stared first at her, then at Bruce. "What-? Why-?"

"I was hunting down the bastard." Ruby explained. "And this is where he decided to swing by." She shook her head at Bruce. "Heads up for next time, kid: never underestimate the whip." She may have been smiling, but her eyes were anxious. They locked with his. Pleading. Bruce seemed to understand what she was asking, for he nodded.

"Sorry I couldn't get here sooner." Jim apologized.

In that moment, footsteps closed in on them. Ruby turned, ready for a rematch, when all she saw was a strong-looking man in a butler uniform. She recognized him as well. "Seems like I missed all the fun!" Alfred said with a grin. For a second, he gave Ruby a puzzled frown. But when he saw how easily his ward leaned into her, Alfred relaxed.

"Where've you been?" Jim demanded.

Alfred gave him a look. "I slowed him down for ya, didn't I?" He turned to Ruby. "Young lady, do I know you?"

"No." Ruby smiled. "I don't know Bruce, either." She gestured to the fallen figure. "Mostly, I was after Tall, Dark, and Crazy over there." After a moment, she added, "But I'm glad I was able to help."  
"You did more than that." Alfred said. "You saved him." Successfully bottling up his emotions, Alfred offered her his hand. When she shook it, she found it coarse but warm. Alfred looked her in the eye. "You're welcome anytime."

Ruby choked but nodded. While she would never say it, this was the first time she'd used her powers to protect someone. And it felt...good.

"I'll call Bullock." Jim muttered, reaching for his phone.

Ruby smirked, wondering if the bearded cop had cashed in on her necklace yet. Her smirk faded when she looked at the boy.

Bruce's face drained of color. Alfred noticed it first. He was about to ask when Bruce answered, raising a pointed finger. All heads turned and were hammered with shock. Azrael was rising, blood streaked across his face and his body almost too heavy to lift. Almost.

Shock turned to frustration. "Are you serious?!" Ruby screamed.

Jim quickly took hold of his gun again. Alfred hid Bruce behind him. Ruby stood in waiting, her breath frozen in her throat. Jim squeezed the trigger. There came a dry snapping sound...and nothing else.

Azrael's expression didn't change. But his eyes betrayed his inner thoughts. He knew he had the upper hand, and he was going to take full advantage of it.

But he hadn't anticipated one last trick up Ruby's sleeve. The maid stood beside Jim. Whispered in his ear. "Gordon, I need your consent."

Jim frowned without looking away. "What?"

"To use my secret weapon. And I need another person for it. I think you're a good candidate." Ruby whispered quickly. "It's hard to explain. But I'm almost sure we could beat him."

Jim turned to face her. Examining her. Shook his head. "How do I know this isn't a trick?"

Ruby bit her lip. "It's not." Sighing, she pushed past him. "Forget it. Let me try." She stood before Azrael. Ignoring the fact that her heart was pounding at a million miles per hour. Azrael seemed amused to see her. Pulled out his sword and held it out. Ruby gulped. Raised her hands, already melting.

"You should know by now that bullets won't kill this monster, Jim."

Ruby dropped her hands slightly. Gasping with anticipation. Oswald emerged from the fog, umbrella in hand. Surrounded by mist, in all his finery, he looked like some mystical prince. Azrael slowly turned, looking confused. Oswald smirked. Trying so hard to contain himself. But he couldn't. This was the man who'd ruined his empire, killed his mother, and sent him to Arkham. He was going to enjoy this like he'd never enjoyed anything before. He rested his umbrella on his shoulder. "My last one got stuck in your throat, so I'm thinking about shoving this one somewhere else." He grinned at the mere image. Excitement brewed within him like hot soup. He raised his voice a bit. "Jim, a little advice for next time: always bring the right tools for the job."

Azrael continued to stand there, as unresponsive as a tree. Staring at him like he was trying to identify him. He suddenly cried out as he fell forward. Landing on his knees. Ruby came up behind him, running with glee. Oswald smiled at the sight of her. Held out his hand to her. She took it. Stood by his side with a proud simper. Oswald stared down at Azrael, thinking how wonderful it was to be able to do so. "See you in Hell, Theo." He moved aside, pulling Ruby with him.

Butch stepped into view, balancing a bazooka on his meaty shoulder. Azrael, who hadn't bothered getting up, stared at it. "Oooooh." He moaned. Jim, Alfred, and Bruce quickly moved out of the way. Butch took aim. Pressed a button. A hissing, fiery missile flew out of the weapon's muzzle. Azrael closed his eyes. It was the last thing he'd ever do.

The missile hit its target. Flesh and organs alike burst into flames.

Oswald sighed contently. Ruby grinned. Leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "I've always loved fireworks." Oswald smirked and looped an arm around her shoulder. An impressive feat, considering she was a head taller than him. Jim, Bruce, and Alfred left their hiding spot, staring at the blazing carnage with wide eyes.

"You're welcome!" Oswald called. Keeping a gentle hold on Ruby, he began to turn around. "Let's go, Butch." Butch obeyed. But not before waving at the three men and yelling, "Night, fellas!"

The three stood there, stunned. Alfred raised his own hand in salutations.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Ruby and Oswald dropped Butch off at the hospital, at his request. He wanted to be with Tabitha, just in case she woke up. Oswald agreed. But not before underlining the fact that Butch owed them now. They had both avenged Tabitha's attack and ensured her safety in the future. At first, Butch hadn't been convinced. But all Oswald had had to do was casually mention that Tabitha had murdered his mother. And hadn't received justice for it.

"But if you work for me again," Oswald said airily, "I just might sweep that little incident under the rug."

Ruby saw right through him. Oswald wouldn't forgive Tabitha anymore than she would forgive her parents. But Butch could be useful. Not only was he noted in the city's criminal underbelly, but he also had quite a few connections. Having such connections was worth feigning forgiveness.

Butch bought it, hook, line, and sinker. Left the car with a spring in his step that there hadn't been before.

The minute the limo was out again, Oswald and Ruby burst into laughter. Opening all the windows to get rid of Butch's cheap cologne, they went over what they'd gone through in detail. Cackling when they remembered Azrael's grisly end. High-fived.

"While I can't say I'm happy about your fighting Azrael," Oswald admitted, "you've gotten us into the Waynes' good graces. This could come in handy in the future."

"Yeah." Ruby said, keeping two hands on the wheel while a third adjusted her hair. "To be honest, though...I didn't do it for gain."

From the backseat, Oswald watched her curiously.

Ruby continued. "That kid...I feel bad for him. He kinda reminded me of myself when I was that age. I couldn't let Azrael hurt him." She chuckled hollowly. "Maybe I'm too soft for this job after all."

A warm hand rested on her shoulder. She turned around. Indigo met icy-blue. "Don't you ever say that." He said firmly. "You are all I have left, Ruby. And if it hadn't been for you, I would still be slaving away, picking up after those disgusting wastes of human flesh. I am certain that there is more strength in you than you realize."

Ruby was blushing so hard she felt feverish. Grateful for the dark, she covered Oswald's hand with hers. "Right back at you."

Oswald blinked in surprise.

"You've endured a hella lot more than most people can claim, and you always bounce back. You're one of the strongest people I've ever met." Ruby squeezed his hand. "To be honest..." She took a deep breath. "Before you came along, I'd never disobeyed an order. So if I have this strength, it's thanks to you."

Oswald didn't realize he'd teared up until the first one slid down his face. Inhaling shakily, he rested his forehead on their intertwining hands. Breathing unsteadily, trying to get a grip. No one had ever paid him such a compliment. Not even his mother. He felt something churning within him, unknown yet pleasant. Ruby watched him between glances at the road. But at this hour, there were few cars. She kept most of her attention on him, ready to give him whatever he might need. He finally looked up. Gave a tiny smile to show that he was fine. But Ruby could still tell that she'd struck a cord with him. And she felt more than a little guilty for it.

Oswald, on the other hand, felt like something had grown within him. A tiny stem rising from burnt, sterile soil.

* * *

Days ripened into weeks. Oswald's connections and alliances sprung forth daily, spreading across every corner of the city like some brand of mushroom. Before long, all the gang bosses swore loyalty to him. Their underlings had no choice but to follow suit. Oswald kept firm control over his new minions via dealings. The gangs could go about their shady dealings as usual, but forty percent of every profit was directly wired into Oswald's bank account. That alone was a far sweeter deal than Maroni, Falcone, or Fish Mooney had ever provided. There was the occasional crack-pot who refused to pay up. They'd always get a visit from either Victor Zsasz or Ruby Sinclair. One used knives, whips, and bats. The other used nothing but her own body. Both always returned home with a wad of cash thick enough to plug a hole in the roof with.

Ruby and Oswald soon fell into a comfortable rhythm in their day-to-day lives. In the morning, Oswald would come down to a breakfast banquet. He and Ruby would always break bread together. Always. Then, once they'd dressed, they would discuss the day's tasks. Sometimes, they would split up. But most of the time, they went together. Ruby would stand behind Oswald, ready to intervene if anything went awry. The two behaved more professionally when in front of subordinates. They referred to each other by surname, never joked around, and never made physical contact. But every now and then, they'd exchange a glance. One that turned Ruby's insides to butter.

One morning, on the three-week anniversary of Azrael's defeat, the phone began to ring.

Ruby and Oswald had been sitting at the dining table, laying siege to the buffet. With a mouthful of tofu eggs Ruby stood up, tying her bathrobe up. "I got it!" The words came out so muffled that Oswald couldn't help chuckling. He took another sip of his tea. Swallowing down the food, Ruby picked up the phone. "Van Dahl residence." A moment of silence. "Sorry, who is this?" Half a minute. "Barbara?"

Oswald stopped. A pang of nostalgia flooded through him. He turned around. Ruby was standing beside the window, a hand on her hip and a curious expression on her face. She met his eyes and immediately got the message. "Uh, okay ma'am. He's right here." She grabbed the phone alongside the receiver. Brought it to him to avoid his pressuring his leg. Oswald was touched by the simple gesture. Thanking her with a wink, he held the receiver. "Hello?"

"Ozzy!" Barbara's silky voice tickled his ear. "It's been so long. How've ya been?"

"I..." Oswald swallowed. "I'm glad to hear from you Barbara. I knew that you'd left Arkham, but..."

"But you thought I'd been brainwashed?" Barbara laughed. "Funny, but no. I pack a better punch than all of those wackos combined."

Oswald chuckled. "Nice to know."

"So who's the chick who answered?" Barbara asked coyly. "Did you hook up while I was away? If so, then congrats! I was starting to think they'd chopped your balls off or something."

Oswald blushed all the way to his roots. He turned away so that Ruby could not see. It turns out that he had nothing to worry about. She was already beginning to clear up. Balancing their empty dishes, she made her way to the kitchen. Where she found such energy was still a mystery. Relieved and strengthened, Oswald cleared his throat. "No, both of your assumptions are incorrect. While I'm infinitely pleased to hear from you, may I ask why you're calling? Last I heard you had tried to reconcile with Jim without success." Petty revenge was as sweet and strong as a whiskey shot. He could hear Barbara snorting from the other end. After a moment she spoke again. Her voice was as tight and prickly as barb wire. "Well, yeah. But I'm a girl who bounces back. Which is why I'm calling actually."

"Oh?" Oswald propped his chin atop his knuckles. Ruby waved at him, catching his attention. She pointed at herself, then pointed at the clock. Next, she held up three fingers on one hand, and a zero with the other. Okay. She needed half an hour. Oswald nodded. Ruby smiled her thanks and disappeared. Oswald thought there was something sad in her smile. But he didn't have time to think about it.

"Yeah." Babara's smile was audible. "Tabby and I, we've talked about doing a business together for, like, ever." Oswald stiffened at the mention of Tabitha, but allowed Barbara to continue. "And we just found a perfect spot. Only problem is, it's fulla jerkoffs."

Oswald waited a beat before answering. "And you are telling me this because...?"

"Because we could use a little help." Barbara said. "Now, if you could be a doll and spread the word that you've got our backs-"

"Barbara." Oswald interrupted sweetly. "Dear, loving Barbara. You're a smart cookie. So please tell me: why in the world would I allow my mother's killer to start her own business? In all honesty, I think that you should be glad that I allowed your friend to live."

"Oh, Pengy." Barbara replied. "You're breaking my heart! What's a little homicide between old friends?"

" _You_ are my friend," Oswald corrected. "But Tabitha Galavan is anything but. Ergo, I repeat: why should I help?"

"Because I'll give you ten percent of everything we earn?" Barbara sounded like she was waving a treat before a hungry dog's nose. "And we'll share whatever juicy gossip we hear?" Oswald paused. Contemplated. Indeed, that sounded like a good deal. Oswald may have been obtaining support, but there were still those who opposed him. Who denied the inevitable. If left unchecked, such sparks could become flames consuming everything he'd worked for.

Finally, he spoke. "Very well," he said, "but be sure to hold your end of the deal."

"Of course." Barbara purred. "Thanks, Pengy. Here's the address."

Oswald copied it down on his napkin. Once that was done, he and Barbara said their goodbyes and hung up. The Penguin sat there, in the same chair that his father had so long ago. His father...he had trusted the wrong people, and it had been his downfall. What if Oswald had inherited his awful judgement? Sighing, Oswald covered his face with his hands. He remained that way for a few minutes. Trying to get it together. At last, he took a deep breath and raised his voice, "Ruby!"

No answer.

He glanced at the clock. Wow. It had been twenty minutes already. He yelled again, just to see if Ruby had finished whatever she was doing early. When that still bore no fruit, Oswald felt a stab of concern. He gathered his cane and rose, grimacing at the pain this caused. Hobbling out of the dining room, he kept calling Ruby's name. Peeking in broom closets, the laundry room, the library...anywhere he thought she might be. That was when he passed by a window.

From this part of the house, the family crypt was visible. It was a tiny stone hut, bearing the Van Dahl family crest on its eastern wall. Oswald swallowed. He remembered his father telling him that the family's founder had built that crypt, right when business had started booming. To avoid grave-robbing. Ever since then, each Van Dahl had been buried there following their funeral.

Except, of course, Grace and her children. They'd been tossed in rubbish, just as they had deserved.

Oswald plucked up his courage and headed down the stairs.

Ten minutes later, he was outside. It was a lovely morning. The sky was thick with clouds; grayish cotton balls heavy with moisture. Neverthless, the cool air buzzed with electricity. Birds chirped sweetly from the shifting trees. Every now and then, Oswald caught sight of squirrels. The crypt stood amongst this all, gray against green. Oswald made his way towards it, his slippered feet barely making a sound on the grassy lawn. As he got closer, he realized that it had been visited very recently. The steps had been swept. The open door didn't squeak as he pushed it wider.

Oswald looked around. The place was piled high with coffins, each one bearing an elegantly-written name. On each wall, three coffins were neatly placed on a marble shelf. The upper one kissed the ceiling. The middle was at eye-level. The last one crouched at Oswald's feet. On and on, for two floors below. Each floor was connected by a very narrow staircase. The place was gloomy, yet strangely pleasant. All of the vases contained fresh flowers.

Then, just below, he saw Ruby.

She was kneeling before one of the caskets. A bouquet of lillies went from her hands to the vase. Every movement was deliberate and careful, as if handling some fragile beauty. Like a memory.

Slowly, respectfully, Oswald shambled towards her. As he got closer, he heard her mumbling.

"...Sorry I haven't visited in a while, Master." Ruby whispered, head bowed. "But I've been busy." A thin sliver of laughter echoed through the stony walls. "Oswald is working so hard. I'm sure you would be proud of him. I certainly am."

Oswald blushed. He stood behind her, not wanting to interrupt.

Ruby sniffed. From where he stood, Oswald could see dark, wet spots on the ground before her. He shivered as he realized what it meant: that she had been crying.

"I miss you so much, Master." Ruby swallowed. "All the time. I think about you frequently. You were the only one who made me feel like I was...something. My parents, they just locked me away from the world. Strange, he kicked me out the moment he was done with me. But you...you gave me a home. Kindness. You made me smile like no one had ever done." Ruby was openly crying now. "And for that, I'm eternally grateful." Unable to say another word, she broke down into tears. Her sobs echoed through the cold, stony walls. It was the saddest sound that Oswald had ever heard. They mirrored the weeping in his own heart, every day. Oswald carefully knelt down behind Ruby. Locked an arm around her. Ruby froze in surprise. But then, her hands rested on his arm. She continued to weep, leaning her head back to rest on his shoulder.

They stayed like that for an immeasurable amount of time. To them, time was as meaningless as the dead surrounding them.

* * *

The building was located in the territory of El Loco. Enough said.

Ruby had heard stories about this guy, and not just because of Oswald. If ever there had been an animal born in human skin, it was El Loco. He ran a drug ring throughout the entire area, and whomever wanted to live there had to either work for him or beat it. Barbara wasn't accepting either choices. Based on that alone, Ruby wasn't sure whether to judge the woman as courageous or deranged.

The limousine glided to a stop. Ruby climbed out of the driver's seat, brushing herself off. Because they'd be meeting with a friend of Oswald's, she had made an even greater effort to look worthy. She wore black velvet pants, a dark blue blouse, and a purple vest that she had personally studded with rose quartzes. Ruby wore garnet earrings and a necklace of her namesake. Hopefully, she would look like she actually belonged to a criminal's meeting.

The passanger's door opened. Two of Oswald's newest thugs emerged. Behind their sunglasses, they looked at the building skeptically. Ruby swept past them and held out her hand. She had learned by now that Oswald struggled to get out of cars due to his leg. To spare him the embarressment, she had taken it upon herself to help him out. Oswald still smiled and blushed every time. It was adorable.

Oswald was dressed finely today. Midnight-blue suit. Indigo tie. Black pleather shoes with sky-blue spats. Jewelled buttons lined his cuffs. Ruby had polished them to a blinding shine. Oh, yes. Those women - the Sirens, as they wanted to be called - wouldn't know what hit them.

Yet as they crowded into the elevator, all four of them, Ruby got a closer look. In truth, Oswald was nervous. He hadn't seen Barbara in a while, and was thus unsure of how to feel about seeing her again. And of course, Tabitha's presence would be enough to rile him up. However, Oswald couldn't allow himself to display weakness. He was above all of them. He just needed to be reminded of it once in a while.

Ruby cleared her throat. "Boss." He turned to her with those piercing, icy-blue eyes. Normally, they looked sharp enough to cut through diamonds. Right now, they seemed soft. "Um, remember that gang that still wasn't giving in?" Ruby tapped a finger on her weak chin. "What were they called? The Leaping Dwarves?"

"The Jumping Shrimp." Oswald corrected. "Due to the fact that it hires little people and trains them to be effective assassins."

Ruby pointed at him. "Yep, that's them. Well," she folded her arms, "those little people will be doing your bidding from now on. I called them on the way here."

The two thugs snorted, as if to say, _Yeah, right_. Oh, blessed ignorance.

Oswald blinked at her. "One telephone call was enough to persuade those dwarf-loving, blood-lusting pigs to submit?"

Ruby winked. "You can thank this beauty for it." Reaching into her pocket, she extracted something that made all three men gasp. It was a lapis lazuli the size of an avocado. Smooth and oval, like some mystical dragon's egg, it was the deepest blue veined with gold. Oswald's jaw was practically touching his tie. Ruby chuckled. Pocketed it once more. "I'd bought it some years ago, with my saved wages." A brief pause. "I...sent it to my mom. She sent it back." Ruby could feel some tears prickling at her eyes. She forced them back and put on a smile. "Her loss, our gain. Am I right?"

One of the thugs stared at her. "Damn." He said. "Your mom's a bitch."

 _You have no idea_. Ruby thought darkly.

"Ruby - Miss Sinclair - I..." Oswald swallowed hard, visibly moved. His eyes glimpsed at the men guarding him. Trained back on Ruby. "I assure you, this gesture will not go to waste. And thank you. Excellent job." His eyes said much more than his mouth. Ruby's eyes responded. In that moment, the doors opened with a ding.

"Ah!" The guards squeezed against the metal walls to let Oswald pass. Without thinking he reached out behind him, his hand waiting. Ruby took it. The two of them marched down the hallway. The two guards shared a glance.

"So," One said, "you think they're banging?"

The second scoffed. "Think? I'll bet my left testicle that they do it on a regular basis."

The first one looked after them, shaking his head. "The guy's got lousy taste. Sinclair looks like half a boy. Me, I like my women with curve and bounce, if you get my drift."

The second rolled his eyes. "We live together, genius. I've learned more about sex from you than all of middle school S.E." He lightly punched his friend on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's see what these bitches want."

'Those bitches' seemed to want their slice of the underworld cake. As Ruby and Oswald entered, still holding hands, they were taken aback. From what Barbara had said, this project was still in its crib. Yet it was already beginning to resemble a place where people could drink. The place had high ceilings and sharp, dark angles. Its eastern walls were made entirely of glass, demonstrating the view of Gotham over a hundred feet above ground. Everything was clean. A bar took up center stage in the room's naval. Lights had been arranged above it, resembling the outline of a great coffin. Orbs of blown white glass would provide further illumination with the coming of night. A stage had been set up, complete with musical instruments.

Oswald stared at it all, star-struck, as Ruby whistled. "Damn."

"Ooh, and you kiss Ozzy's ring with that mouth?"

All heads turned towards the voice. A slender blonde came into being, dressed in hot pink and high heels. Her hair was swept back, her makeup impeccable. She walked towards them rather smoothly considering her footwear, a martini glass in her manicured hand. Oswald reluctantly let go of Ruby's hand. His own quickly turned to ice. He smiled. "Barbara! It's been too long." He limped down the steps to meet Barbara. They exchanged air kisses. Ruby felt a prick of jealousy in her gut. Kicked herself for it.

Barbara smiled warmly at Oswald. "Yes indeed. So much has happened. We'll have to catch up, don't you think?"

"Absolutely." Oswald said. "But for now," he gestured to the steps, "why don't we discuss business first?"

"Always the proper gentleman, I see." Barbara seated herself right where Ruby's battered boots were. With a muted scoff the maid moved. A bit. Barbara glanced up, studied Ruby a moment, then turned back to Oswald. "Pengy, who's this? The lovely lady who answered the phone?"

"Yep. That's me." Ruby interjected before Oswald could open his mouth. Reached down and offered her hand to Barbara. Fought the temptation to sprout claws. "Ruby Sinclair, bodyguard and maid. Pleased to meet you."

Barbara gave an approving smile. Without accepting Ruby's hand. "See? Now was that so hard, not swearing?" Turning back to Oswald, she laughed. "Oh, Ozzy, are all of your servants so well-mannered?" Ruby dropped her hand just in time to be waved off by Barbara. "Now, be a dear and get me a refill." Barbara shoved the martini glass in Ruby's hand without turning to look at her. "Now, onto business."

Oswald's jaw was clenched. He nodded. "Yes. You want a loan in exchange for gossip and a percentage of your earnings, yes?"

Barbara nodded. "Sounds pretty cut-and-dry, but yeah. That's about it."

Oswald swallowed. "How much?"

"Oh, I don't know." Barbara twirled some hair around her finger. "For the alcohol, publicity, and hired help, I'd say..." She pretended to think before saying, "Forty thousand."

Oswald's dark brows climbed up his forehead. "A hefty sum."

"Yeah well," Barbara grinned, "ya gotta spend if ya wanna earn. You know?"

"Yes, I do." Oswald smiled tightly. Took a step forward. "Allow me to add my own condition to the deal: you are to repay me within the year. If not, you will pay in blood. I suggest you do it in dollars while you can."

Barbara didn't bother asking him if he'd really do it. She already knew. "Fine. Sounds fair."

"And," Oswald added, "I may need a favor from time to time."

Barbara rolled her eyes, "Jeez. What else can I get ya, big boy? A cold beverage?" She raised her hands when she saw Oswald's darkening expression. "Take a joke! Okay, deal."

Oswald smiled. "Excellent."

If only he'd have known.


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The rest of the day was uneventful at best. But for a line of work such as this, a little boredom is always welcome. Ruby drove the men back to the mansion. Oswald curtly thanked the two men - if Rocco and Bigfoot weren't their names, then they should have been - for their services, yet asked them to return later that evening. Once home, Ruby set to work on the afternoon chores. She did the laundry. Paid a few bills. Cleaned the windows. Gardened, thusly bringing in a basketful of veggies that would nourish them both tonight. Took a few calls.

Then, she retired to one of the drawing rooms. Not too long ago, her low social status would have forbidden her from relaxing in any room aside from her own. But since his ascent, Oswald had tossed those rules out the window. Now, Ruby could do as she liked, in any chamber of the mansion, given that she never interrupt a meeting or neglect her duties. Ruby wouldn't have dreamed of doing either.

This drawing room was a very nice one to recline in. Painted entirely in pale azure, from the wallpaper to the curtains, it gave one the feeling of being in a cozy robin's egg. There were two oak bookshelves as tall as basketball hoops, each one stuffed with yellow-paged volumes that Ruby occasionally skimmed through. A chandelier of stained blue glass brightened every corner of the cubicle once the sun set. White and blue vases of the Ming dynasty dominated the shelves. Ruby always dusted those sitting down out of fear of dropping them. Paintings of the sea hung on the walls, sometimes so realistic that one could almost smell the salty breeze.

Ruby had never been to the sea. Never been anywhere unless one counted the worlds in books. But who knows? Maybe, someday, she could go.

With Oswald.

Ruby shook her head. Hopefully, that thought will have flown out through her ear. Her, and Oswald? Scandal! Odium! She had to keep her mind on more practical matters. Like making sure her jewels were in perfect shape, and listening to the news while she did.

Holding the magnifying glass with a third arm, which she'd sprouted from her forehead, Ruby carefully held up each gem in her possession. Polished and repaired when needed. As she worked, steadily and comfortably, she went over each stone's meaning. Garnet; associated with love, self-confidence, strength, and bravery. Sapphire; symbol of sincerity, truth, and loyalty. Opal; it stimulates creativity and inconsistency, flippant and spontaneous. And so on.

The news channel, provided by the old television, provided a white noise. Infinitely better than the crushing silence that came with being alone.

Until something came up.

The name of a place that often appeared in Ruby's nightmares.

The diamond bracelet that she'd been polishing landed on the carpet. Unnoticed. Ruby slowly looked up, setting down the polishing equiptment and magnifying glass. Her third arm shrank back into her forehead. She rose. Watching. Listening. A block of ice melted in her stomach.

"Investigations continue in light of disturbing rumors regarding Arkham Asylum." The newslady was saying. "Apparently, its controversial leader, Hugo Strange, has been supposedly performing illegal experiments. Some of these so-called 'monsters' have been spotted throughout the last couple of weeks. One utilized what witnesses are calling a 'freeze gun'. Another supposedly had the left arm of a reptile. The police are limiting information until the full story can be discovered. Stay tuned."

Ruby sat there during the commercial break. Not following any of it. Everything around her had frozen. Limited itself to those brief images, those clipped words. And what they could mean. The maid rested her head in her hands, shaking it.

No. No, it couldn't be true. But it was. Gotham's news channels weren't famous for their honesty, but Ruby doubted even they'd go this far.

That could only mean one thing. That hers hadn't been the last batch. Hugo Strange was still cooking up more creatures, presumably in the same basement laboratory where he'd 'fixed' her. A nauseating mixture of terror and pity stirred within Ruby. She could only imagine how those poor souls were being treated. How they were being stripped of their humanity, piece by piece. That was how it had been with her. Every time someone had looked at her, they had either quickly looked away or outright laughed. Whispers of disgust had floated around her like dust particles.

Who knew if the damned in there were going through the same. For what purpose that they'd been tested on. For their sake, Ruby hoped that none of them had matched hers.

But one thing was for sure: she couldn't sit around and wait.

Ruby inhaled deeply. Glanced at the clock. Okay. It was half-past five. Dinner was usually served at six, but Oswald had asked her to change dinnertime for seven-thirty instead. Last-minute business, he claimed. Fine, more time for her. But rather than simply leave, Ruby quickly wrote a note saying that she would be back first. Oswald knew in which room she was, so he would find it.

Inhaling shakily, Ruby opened the window. Her skin loosened once against, stretching and connecting at her sides. She flew out as gracefully as a swallow.

* * *

The basement was a rather nice room, if one didn't mind cool, dark places. All of the walls had been carved into honeycomb-like structures, with each small cubicle hosting a bottle of wine. Objects that simply hadn't found their place in the upper floors lingered down here like spectres: small marble statues, a stuffed moose's head, and various trophies. Decorations for Christmas, Halloween, and Thanksgiving. Gardening equiptment. The washing machine and dryer. All stood here silently, watching their two guests.

The two bodyguards - Rocco and Bigfoot - stood fumbling their thumbs. The boss had told them to meet him down here with no weapons, nor communication devices. Fishy request, for sure, but considering what he was paying them, they'd have shown up naked if so he'd asked.

But there was no denying that waiting around was boring as hell.

"God," Rocco whipped out a cigar, lit it, and began puffing away. "What's taking so goddamn long?"

Bigfoot grinned. "Maybe he's still banging the maid."

Rocco smirked around the cigar. "Hmm, yeah. That's probably it." He cracked his knuckles. "What do you think? That he fucks her from behind or...?"

"I bet they do it standing up." Bigfoot chuckled. "And she's probably the one standing 'cause she's taller than him."

The two men shared a laugh, exchanging images of the boss and the maid 'porking'. Everything from blowjobs to spanking was described in great detail, and the two found it boundlessly hilarious.

The one eavesdropping, though, did not.

He cleared his throat. The cackling stopped as though someone had flipped a switch. The two men stood at the ready, with Rocco putting out his cigar. Oswald limped out of the shadows, still dressed in his fine suit. His eyes were like chips of blue ice. "Hello, boys." His smile didn't reach the upper half of his face. "I trust I did not make you wait too long?"

The two men muttered, assuring him that they hadn't.

"Good." Oswald lurched towards them until they were all mere feet apart. He gestured to the two chairs that had been set up. "Please. Sit."

Rocco and Bigfoot shared a nervous glance before obeying. They tried to get comfortable, but it was no easy task. The chairs were little better than thick blocks of wood nailed together. Oswald smirked. Stepped in between the chairs and rested his pale hands onto their spines. His fingers traced the objects hidden there. "So," He said conversationally, "how did you boys enjoy your first day here? Was it to your liking?"

"Oh, sure." Bigfoot nodded.

"Yeah." Rocco said. "We had fun."

"I'm sure." Oswald kept smirking. "I'm certain that you two enjoyed cracking jokes about the nature of my relationship with Ruby." He pretended to think. "What was the term? You thought we were... _porking?"_ Rocco and Bigfoot froze, looked at each other, and rushed to get up. In one swift motion Oswald extracted the two long nails and drove them through the men's hands. Their screams echoed through the basement, while the moose's head watched on blankly.

* * *

Ruby landed nimbly on the roof, her slippered feet making contact with the wet pavement. The moment she left the sky, her makeshift wings departed. She stretched, grinning, as bones popped wonderfully. Once every nerve in her body was buzzing once again, Ruby looked around.

The place was still as she remembered it. All of the three buildings that made up Arkham Asylum were crumbling away. The orchard was barely better than a shrieveled wasteland. Crows took the sky. Only now...it somehow seemed darker. More lethal. There were guards all around the building. The chimneys sputtered ugly black smoke. But beyond that, it simply felt more ominous. Ruby wanted to hightail out of here. But if she did, her conscience would never forgive her.

Taking a deep breath, Ruby turned her body to liquid. It slithered across the pavement, quick as a serpent. Seeped into the air vents. Following every suspicious noise the clay shifted, moving urgently. It made its way through cobwebs and dead moths, shuddering all the while. It took more lefts and rights than anyone could keep track of, focusing on going down. At last, there came the noises. Roars. Snarls. Howls. Screams. The liquid shivered at the sounds.

At last, it reached the air vent. Pouring itself through the slit, the clay reformed into Ruby on the floor. Feet. Shins. Legs. Hips. Waist. Chest. Arms. Shoulders. Neck. When it finally reached the head, Ruby inhaled deeply. Ran both hands through her curly hair. Pulled it slightly. Melting was never a pleasant experience. It felt so surreal, being able to move despite not having bones or muscles. That, and she felt gross.

But now was not the time to pity herself. Ruby raised her eyes and gulped. The place was blinding white, drenched in flourescent lighting, and lined with stainless steel. Everything reeked of disinfectant and, just beneath that, fear.

It was Moving Day, apparently. From her spot in the shadows she saw orderlies dragging large boxes and cages out of cells. Each one of those boxes was making some kind of noise. None of them sounded human. It didn't matter. Ruby hunched down. Waited. When a nurse walked past her hiding spot, Ruby's rubbery arms shot out, one covering her mouth, and dragging her into the dark. Minutes later, what appeared to be the nurse stepped out again. Tucking hairs back in the bun, and adjusting her uniform. She stopped at the name tag. Reading it. "Olivia." She said to herself in a croaky, changing voice. "Olivia Rossi." She closed her eyes. Took a few calming breaths. "Okay. Okay. I can do this." Glancing back, she nodded. The real nurse was stuck to the wall with clay like a fly in a spider's web. A hunk of drying clay muffled her lips. "Sorry, ma'am." Ruby apologized. "But this is something that I have to do. Don't worry, the clay will break off in six hours. My body can't stay in an altered form any longer than that." She waved and left.

What Ruby saw would haunt her forever. Some still looked normal enough. Their biggest peculiarity was white hair or a muzzle. But others...whatever they were now, they weren't human. Ruby didn't recognize any of her old friends from her time here. No surprise there. That had been eight years ago. She hoped that they had been freed. And not...Ruby shuddered.

One inmate in particular halted her tracks. Not because of her looks, but because of her familiarity. Sitting in a small cell was a short, yet slender woman with skin the color of milk chocolate and black, red-streaked hair. Her face was long and elegant, with chiseled cheekbones and heart-shaped lips. When those eyes met hers, Ruby recognized them. One was brown, but the other had become pale blue. But Ruby recognized her all the same. Newspapers had talked about her death for weeks.

"Fish Mooney." She whispered.

The woman smirked. "Well, nice to know someone here doesn't call me 'Number 13'." She got to her feet. Indeed, she was short. Just over five feet, but no more. Ruby stared down at her, dumbstruck. This was her. Oswald's first boss. The one who had crippled him. Tried to kill him. Ruby knew that she should hate this woman. But now, looking at her through bars...she just felt pity. Fish Mooney eyed her coldly. "What's the matter, Rossi? Ain't you gonna taunt me some more? Maybe deprive me of my food rations again?"

"I..." Ruby glanced away, flabberghasted. Now, she wasn't so sorry for what she'd done to the nurse. "No, Miss Mooney. I won't. I...just came for information."

"Oh?" Fish leaned her head back, suspicious. "Well, this is an interesting change. What can I do for you?"

Ruby gestured at the commotion. "What's going on here? I mean...really?"

Fish chuckled. "Someone hasn't been paying attention in class. To put it simply we're being moved upstate. Gotham could very well find out about us soon, and our dear little Hugo doesn't want that."

"Hugo..." Just saying that name made Ruby's jaw clench. "Uh...thanks, Miss Mooney. I'll see what I can do." She meant that. Moving away from Fish's cage, she didn't see the way the former boss looked at her. Suspiciously.

* * *

Oswald grinned as the two men continued to scream. Just for extra giggles, he wiggled the nails. He could feel their thin, metallic bodies shifting in bone and muscle. The men screamed louder. It was delicious. But knowing that time was of the essence, he let go. Eventually, their shouts melted into sobs. Pathetic.

"Now," Oswald stepped in front of them, "you no doubt have heard about what I do to those who betray me, yes?"

Rocco and Bigfoot moaned as they nodded.

"Those who embezzle money, who snitch on me to the police, who turn to my enemies...the list goes on." Oswald leaned forward. "They all paid for their crimes. Every last one. They are all rotting in their ground or in the river."

Rocco began to cry. Bigfoot looked ready to wet himself.

"Though I will admit that your crime was not nearly so serious." Oswald said airily. "You merely insulted my good friend and I, expecting that I would show you the same mercy that I show her." He grabbed both men by their ties and yanked them forward. They grimaced. The motion sent bolts of pain racing from their hands to the rest of their bodies. "But there is one crucial difference between you two scum-buckets and her: Ruby is my friend. She has demonstrated her loyalty time and again. You two, on the other hand, have not. Nor are you my friends. You are expendable guards, nothing more. If I throw two pieces of gutter trash away, two more will float to the surface. Do you understand?"

Bigfoot nodded shakily. Rocco, through tears, muttered that he did, that he was sorry. Oswald smiled sickly. "There. Now was that so hard?" He reached into his coat's pocket. Out came two switchblade, nestled between three fingers. As sharp and bright as lightning bolts. Both men froze. "Now, let us go over it one more time. Ruby is...?"

"Your friend." They both said.

"And she and I..?"

"Don't pork." They answered.

Oswald smiled. "Very nice, men. But you see, actions can never be erased by words. There are consequences to our actions. This," he held up the switchblades, "is your consequence."

He let the knives fly.

* * *

Ruby desperately tried not to trip with these ridiculous heels. Damn, Ms. Peabody had awful taste, right down to the purple lipstick. But she _did_ have the keys to confidential files, which was why Ruby had followed her to the bathroom and locked her in the stall. By the time the lady got out, Ruby will have gotten the job done.

Not for the first time, Ruby speculated on how Oswald was changing her. Months ago, she would never have dared to pull a stunt like this. And it felt good. Powerful.

Ruby reached into the lab coat pocket, which thankfully had the keys. A little souvenir Ruby had taken right before she'd locked the stall's door from the outside. Only problem was, there were about a dozen keys, and they all looked identical. Slapping a lid over her boiling anger, Ruby found the door she'd been searching and began to go through them. It was the sixth one that did the trick. Stepping inside, she decided that six was her new lucky number.

The files' room was creepy to say the least. Dimly lit. Filled with cobwebs. At least twenty battered gray cabinets. "Oh, great." Sighing, Ruby adjusted the glasses on her nose. She checked her watch. Okay. She had been in this form for nearly an hour, searching through the building for this exact room. That meant she had five hours to do everything she had to do and leave. She needed some power to get home without Oswald noticing. Swallowing hard, Ruby locked the door. Then, she sprouted ten extra arms, stretching her body out like a centipede. Carefully, she combed her way through the cabinets. Searching for some clue. Some reason that Dr. Strange would revert to this old process after nearly a decade. Mostly, she found files of patients - including hers. Thinking fast, she pocketed it. She didn't want anyone looking through her documents, reading about what had been done to her. What she could do now. Otherwise, it would only be too easy to figure out who did this.

She went through several names that meant nothing to her. Basil Karlo. Karen Jennings. Victor Fries. Brigit Pike. One name, however, caught her eye: Edward Nygma. Well, well. Looks like the system wasn't as broken as Ruby had thought. "For what you did to Oswald," she whispered, "I hope you rot in here forever." She slammed the drawer shut with a force that left her handprint pressed into the metal. She didn't care. It wasn't 'her' hand but Ms. Peabody's.

Finding nothing in the cabinets, Ruby went for the desk.

Twenty minutes later, at last, she finally found what she was looking for. It was in the form of a letter, with no return address. Meant for Professor Strange 'and no one else'. Directly beneath it were envelopes of...money. Ruby gasped, holding them up closer for inspection. On each envelope was written the same thing: DONATIONS FOR RESEARCH. In each envelope was at least forty thousand dollars. A careful gander revealed that these envelopes had first started popping up several months ago. Apparently, they had done so at the same time the experiments had begun again. Who was funding this project? And for what purpose? "Hmm." Carefully, Ruby folded the letters and slipped them into her pocket.

That was when the room was bathed in crimson light. Sirens began to wail.

"Oh, no." Ruby hissed. The panic caused her to lose her concentration. With a yelp and a hurtle she lost her altered form. She fell to the ground, back to normal. Ruby could already hear footsteps storming towards her. Not a second later, the door buckled under a great force. Voices demanded that, whoever she was, she surrendered. They were armed and ready to shoot. Ruby looked around desperately, looking for a way out. She found it in the form of another air vent.

The guards burst through the door, aiming their rifles. But there was nothing to point at. The air vent was open, and there was a scuttling noise. Without thinking they shot at the metal tubes. Whatever it was didn't stop. There wasn't any blood.

Professor Strange stood amongst them, solemn and thoughtful.

* * *

Oswald paced back and forth in the saloon, a glass of wine in his trembling hand. Bathed and changed, tossing the bloodstained clothes in the washer with extra bleach, he'd felt better. Until he'd called for Ruby, searched for her, and found the house empty. Dinner wasn't even ready, save for a basketful of peeled and sliced vegetables. Oh, and some polished jewels. Apparently, she'd been freshening them up with the TV on.

Oswald sighed. Women. She'd probably gone out on some errand and forgotten to inform him. Ah, well. He crashed on the sofa, careful not to spill his wine. He took a sip. Felt the sweet strength flood his veins. With each gulp, he found himself relaxing a little bit more. He allowed his troubled thoughts to dissolve, his anxiety to crumble. Instead, he focused on things that he was certain of. He wasn't quite the KIng of Gotham returned, at least not yet. But he was making daily progress. Almost a third of all gangs had pledged allegiance to him. He earned an average of eighty thousand dollars a week. He was feared and respected, and would be even more so once word spread of the fate of his filthy-talking guards.

He had a great friend. Whose location was currently a mystery to him.

Oswald sighed. Leaned back. His hand brushed against something crusty. Smiling, he glanced at it. Yep. The dried grease was still there. He allowed himself to travel back in time. Treasure the memory that this stain provided.

 _Two weeks ago..._

 _Ruby was sitting on the sofa's corner, picking at the vegetable stir-fry. Oswald sat just a few inches away, munching on the baked salmon she'd prepared for him. The film they were watching was an old, black-and-white one with classic music and corny dialogue. Father had loved this film in spite of its flaws. He'd said that it reminded him of his youth. Oswald struggled to rein in the tears. Ruby eventually noticed, and immediately set down her dish. "Penny for your thoughts?"_

 _Oswald smiled sadly. "This..reminds me of Father."_

 _Ruby returned his facial expression. "Me, too. That's why I like watching it."_

 _Oswald quickly wiped the corner of his eye. Hoping she hadn't seen. "Oh?"_

 _Ruby nodded, simpering. "He left us lots of wonderful memories. And...I think we'd be dishonoring him if we only remembered how he died. Master wasn't just his final moments. He was everything that came before that."_

 _Oswald nodded slowly. "Yes. I suppose you're right." But this didn't make him feel any better. Ruby stared at him for a long moment, unable to bear the sorrow draped over him like a shawl. It mirrored her own too much. If those two pains collided, then they might crush them both. Master wouldn't have wanted that. Ruby wiped her own eyes, and rose. "You know what else Master liked? Dancing."_

 _Oswald blinked. "Truly?"_

 _"Well," Ruby rolled her eyes, "he preferred classical dancing, but yes. He could move when he really wanted to. Before...you know." She didn't need to say it. Instead, she walked towards the record player. Oswald's curious eyes followed her. A second later, agitated guitar strumming filled the room. "You know what? I feel like stagediving!"_

 _Oswald was so surprised that he could only respond by laughing. "You are insane."_

 _Ruby ran back towards him, already bouncing. "Yep, yep! I'm off my rocker. Let's dance!" She bent down, grabbed his wrists, and began pulling. "Come on, shake that bony white ass!" Oswald cackled again. No one had ever spoken to him so freely, so wildly. He kind of liked it. But unfortunately, he had to resist its calling. "I can't." He gestured to his bad knee._

 _Ruby kept dancing. Dark blue eyes searched his face, playful yet concerned. "You sure?"_

 _"I'm sure." Oswald put his own plate down. "But if you wish to dance, then by all means. Dance until your limbs become overcooked asparagus."_

 _Ruby grinned. "Enjoy the show then, my king!" She jumped on the coffee table, right in front of the television, and began dancing. It was nothing worthy of America's Got Talent. She just moved her hips and swayed her arms. But she looked so happy, so carefree, that Oswald couldn't help adore what he was seeing. The television's lighting cast behind her outlined her slender, curveless figure, making her look like an old-fashioned pop star. This somehow added to the absurdity of it all. Oswald shifted so that he sat in the couch's center, right in front of Ruby. Then, unable to ignore the rhythm, he began to move his arms and shoulders._

 _"Yes!" Ruby pointed at him triumphantly. "Rock out!"_

 _Oswald's movement accidentally tipped over Ruby's vegetable platter. Some of the hot olive oil spilled, darkening the cloth. The two would find it the next morning, and laugh about it._

Oswald closed his eyes. Squeezed them. Leaned his head back. "Ruby," he whispered, "where are you?"

In that moment the door swung open. Ruby stood in the frame, looking tired and sweaty and very shaken up. Her hair was a blonde-brown-gray rat's nest. Her eyes were anime-big and tense. Her clothes were streaked with dust. Files were clenched in her trembling fingers. Tearstains shone like silver on her flushed cheeks.

"Ruby!" Oswald jumped to his feet. Hobbled quickly over to her. He grasped her shoulders. "Where have you been? Are you alright?"

"I...I...oh, dear." Ruby covered her face with her hands. Fell to her knees. Oswald fell with her. Wrapped his arms around her shaking form. "I've got you." He held her close, trying to calm her down. "What happened? Please. I...I was worried."

Ruby was dry-heaving. Wanting to cry or vomit (or both) but lacked the biological tools to do so. She trembled. Leaned into Oswald's embrace. Images flashed through her brain. Scarring her. Haunting her. But now, in Oswald's gentle hold, they couldn't really hurt her.

Without a word, she held up the files.


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20  


Getting information out of Ruby was impossible at first. She spoke almost too quickly to be understood. She trembled. She wouldn't look him in the eye. That was why Oswald sent her to wash up while he looked over the files himself. Ruby agreed. She gave him the files...except for her own.

She couldn't let Oswald know the truth. Not yet. The way he was looking at her now, with such gentle concern...he might never look at her that way again if he had all the facts. And Ruby would lose her only friend.

She sat under the shower now, letting the cold water pelt her like so many fists. But no matter how hard the water hit, how pink her skin became, it wasn't enough. The real stains were hiding where soap and water couldn't go.

Nevertheless, Ruby scrubbed herself clean. The foam went from gray to white over the course of twenty minutes. At last, when the tiled room was as steamy as a springtime jungle, Ruby felt clean. At least, enough to hide her guilt for hiding the file. She combed her wet hair back with her fingers. Slipped into a black hoodie and sweatpants. Then, after a moment's contemplation, slipped on a necklace heavy with her namesake. When she trudged downstairs, an exotic, delectable aroma drifted up to greet her. Blinking, Ruby fumbled with the jewels hanging around her neck. Slowly, she made her way down. She heard Oswald exchange a few curt words with the delivery boy, pay him (no tip included), and the door slam shut. Oswald limped his way towards the kitchen, wincing audibly.

Ruby ran down. "Wait!"

Oswald froze, carrying two plastic bags advertising The Red Dragon in his skinny arms. Ruby smiled as she claimed both packages. "How'd you know I love The Red Dragon?"

Oswald blinked, then smiled with uncertainty. "You do?"

Ruby quirked a brow. "Why the surprise?"

"Well..." Oswald suddenly looked awkward, complete with rubbing the back of his neck. It was adorable. "It's actually one of my favorite restaurants."

Ruby stared at him. Her guilt was soon replaced by excitement. "Really?"

"Yes." It was Oswald's turn to smile with a touch of melancholy. "Ed introduced me to it one night via take-out. Remember, when he'd taken me in and nursed me back to health?"

"I remember." Ruby rested the bags on the kitchen's small table. Began opening each paper box. "You two were...close, huh?"

"Yes." Oswald sighed. "He was the first friend I'd ever had. I was there, dying in the woods...then, he came to save me. Like a guardian angel."

Ruby felt a stab in her chest, but she forced a smile. Tried to ignore the sting. "Sounds like you totally crushed on Ed."

Oswald's pasty-white face quickly reddened. His stomach formed a knot. But even so, it felt good to discuss this with a friend. "Perhaps." He mused. "You would have, too. Smart, homicidal, and charming. Just like me." He winked. Ruby giggled behind her hand as she tipped the containers over plates. Their steaming contents poured onto the fine china. Oswald, in the meantime, put the kettle on. "And you?"

Ruby glanced at him while still placing the utensils atop the table. "Me?"

"Have you ever been in a serious relationship?" Oswald emphasized. Looked at her with interest.

Ruby bit her lip. "Uh...not really." She pushed some damp hair back. "Um, my parents...well, let's just say I spent the first eighteen years locked up in my house. Well, my room, to be more specific. Then, when I was nineteen, I started working here." She smiled faintly. "I had a couple of relationships, but it was always with other servants. So if they were fired..." She shrugged.

Oswald watched her with large, shining eyes. Said nothing. Ruby noticed and quickly cleared her throat. "Er, anyway...what was Edward like? What did he do?"

Oswald knew that she was trying to slink away from the spotlight. But he chose not to push her further. She would have done the same for him. One day, though, he'd get the full story. Be it from her lips or someplace else. For now, he would humor her; and not only because he liked thinking of his old friend. "He worked in the forensics lab at the GCPD. He had a somewhat irritating penchant for riddles. Day or night, he would blurt one out. I rather liked spending time with him. He was only one who seemed as strange as I."

Ruby didn't answer. She kept her head down. Claimed the kettle and poured the hot water into two mugs. Expertly, she dropped two green tea bags in the cups.

"Speaking of strange..." Oswald sat down in the chair opposing Ruby's. She had no choice but to look at him. His gaze was serious, yet gentle. "What were you doing in Arkham Asylum?"

Ruby's hands began to shake. Oswald noticed this and softened his tone. "Please."

Her hands stilled. She sighed. Deciding to tell...most of what happened. "I was in one of the rooms polishing my jewels and watching TV. Then, something about Strange popped up."

Oswald's eyes sharpened. Twin swords against whetstones. "What?"

"Apparently, 'monsters' have been sighted around the city lately, and people suspect he's involved. I...went to find out."

"How did you get there so quickly?" Oswald asked more out of concern than suspicion. "Did you call a taxi?"

"Something like that." Ruby replied. "And...I saw things, Oswald." It felt good to evade holding back. To share what she'd seen. Oswald was the only person that she would have told. Of that she was certain. "Those poor people...what they must have gone through, ah..." She covered her eyes with her hands. Trying not to cry. She spoke through her fingers. "There were people with scales instead of skin...people with wings and tails...some with pale eyes or no eyes at all." She paused. "And...I saw Fish Mooney." Oswald's jaw dropped all the way to his tie. He stared at her as though she'd just chopped her arm off. His face lost what little color it had. Not progressively, but all at once. For one moment, Ruby thought he was seriously going to faint. She reached out and grabbed his hand, even as stray tears ran down her cheeks. "Are you okay?"

"A..." Oswald swallowed so loudly that Ruby could hear it. "Are you certain?"

Ruby nodded. "I recognized her from the papers. But one of her eyes was blue now, and she had a weird outfit on." She shrugged. "Whomever put her in that get-up played World of Warcraft."

"Who cares what she was wearing?!" Oswald snapped. "But it could not have been her! I pushed her over the edge! I watched her fall into that filthy river, and never re-emerge!" His voice was rising now. "She cannot be alive! Or I very soon won't be!"

"Sssh." Without thinking Ruby reached out. Her palms rested on Oswald's cheeks. His rant ended they did. In fact, everything about his body language ended. He froze. Stared. Barely breathed. Ruby felt her cheeks turn scarlet, but she put her own discomfort aside in favor of her friend's. "Please, calm down. I'm already nervous. If you snap too, neither of us will find a solution." Oswald gave a quick jerk of a nod. "If you want," Ruby continued, "we can talk about it some other time." She didn't deny to herself that this was said just as much for her sake as his.

Oswald gulped, offered a small smile, and patted her hands. "Th...thank you, but I'm alright." Reluctantly, he pulled away from her hands. His expression grew serious again. "Alright. I don't think that you would lie to me about something like this, but..." Oswald shook his head. "It is simply impossible."

"Nothing's impossible." Ruby said quietly, looking down at her hands.

Oswald pretended that he hadn't heard her. "I shall worry about the supposedly resurrected Fish Mooney another time." He picked up his fork and knife, pinkies lifted, and began attacking the prawns. After each bite, he wiped his mouth clean. "But what exactly did you learn at Arkham? Besides the nefarious experiments going on below?" He watched her even as he ate, intend on hearing every word. Having such undivided attention on her...especially with such intense eyes...made Ruby look away. She swallowed down her fried bell peppers and cucumber. Dabbed at her mouth. "Y-yeah." She took a deep breath and repeated what Fish Mooney had told her. After that, she told him about the letters and the envelopes filled with money. Oswald never interrupted nor looked away. He sipped both the green tea and a glass of red wine. Two rosy spots appeared in his sallow cheeks. Ruby switched between eating and talking, clearing off her plate. Trying to remember the last time someone had prepared dinner for her.

At last, she leaned back. "Well?" She asked. "What do you think?"

"I think," Oswald smiled like the cat who'd just eaten the canary, "that this is very interesting indeed."

Ruby sighed, already knowing what was going through Oswald's head. Some people hold grudges. He fossilized them like flies in amber and pinned them to his shirt. "Getting back at Strange won't undo what he put you through."

"But it will feel great." Oswald's smile widened.

Ruby sighed, knowing when the battle was lost. Oswald was too focused on the 'prize' right now to be able to see what consequences it might bring. The chance at revenge was too new and shiny right now. Eventually, he'd come down from his vendetta high and see reason. Hopefully. Until then, Ruby knew that trying to talk him out of it would have been the equivalent of telling a brick wall not to...well, be a brick wall.

A noise emerged from the saloon. Oswald gasped. In a second he was on his feet, pointing a gun at the entrance. Ruby ducked...until the next noise emerged. It was the sound of an ape's roar. One look from her made him lower the weapon. "Chillax." She grinned. "It's just the TV."

Oswald swallowed. Bristly and blushing. "I knew that." He put the weapon away.

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Sure." Climbing out of her seat, she stuffed her hands in her pockets. "Let me just see what's on, then I'll be all over these dishes."

"Very well." Oswald nodded, still blushing. "I have a call to make, anyway." Ruby pistol-shot him with her finger before making her way out of the kitchen. Once she had her back turned, she sighed. The guilt came back. Oswald clearly wanted to storm the asylum...or at least shoot Strange's head off his shoulders. But he didn't seem overall concerned for the experiments. Hell, why should he? He hadn't seen them. He hadn't heard their cries.

He wasn't one of them.

Ruby pinched the bridge of her nose. Thinking. What if, somehow, Oswald learned the truth about her? What would he say? The mere idea of such a thing happening turned Ruby's knees to Jell-O. She couldn't think about it now. Eventually, she would have to. But...not now.

Indigo eyes landed on the television screen. She brightened. "Well, what do you know?" The 1970s' _Planet of the Apes_. Ruby remembered watching it. She'd been six or seven. Her parents had locked her in her room, as usual, but she'd picked the padlock with a dropped hairpin. She had snuck out of her room in search of books, jewels, more thread and needles...anything that could help kill her day-long boredom. Instead, she'd come across her parents watching this very film. She'd watched it from her hiding spot, mesmerized at the moving pictures. It had been the first time she'd ever seen a movie.

"Small world." Her hands ducked back into her pockets. Veering back into the kitchen, she called, "Hey, Oswald! Wanna 'go ape'?" When she got no answer, instead hearing murmurs, she shut her mouth and neared the table. Oswald was pacing back and forth, sipping at his wine. His cheeks were flushed. Ruby suspected that it wasn't just from the alcohol. "Tabitha," he made the word sound like an insult, "enough with your prattle! Pass me Barbara!" A brief pause. Then: "If there is a Hell, you will someday be the whore of it. Now pass me Barbara or I will withdraw all support for your little club. Want to see if I'm telling the truth?" He leaned back, tapping his foot impatiently. Finally, some of the rage cleared from his face. "Barbara, hello. I apologize for the hour, but it is vital that you begin early with your part of the deal." A second's silence, during which Oswald smirked. "I thought you would say that. Yes. I need you to go to the GCPD tomorrow and learn whatever you can on the Arkham case." A moment of quietude. When Oswald spoke again, his voice was flat but clearly irritated. "Any way you want. Bribe someone. Seduce the captain. Bash the fileclerk on the head and search through the cabinets. Got any naughty photographs?" He was yelling at this point. "I don't _care_ how you get the information! Just do it!"

He hung up then. Breathing heavily. He downed his glass in one gulp. But he didn't look any less stressed. Ruby took this as her cue to step in. Her hand found his arm. Oswald looked at her with big, startled eyes. She did her best to smile. "Um...movie night?"

* * *

The contraption reeked of metal and sweat. It closed around Jim's head. Cutting out air and sound. It was a grim parody of a mother's womb. Hot and encompassing, and anything but loving.

There came a click. The contraption was split down the middle. It was torn away, letting cool air slip inside. Jim breathed it in gratefully. But he didn't allow himself to get distracted. He was still on enemy grounds, after all. The room he was in was dim, painted white all over with lab equiptment taking up most space. Directly in front of him was Professor Hugo Strange. A tall, well-dressed man with round, magenta specs sitting on his nose. Bald and sporting a short beard that covered his jawline. Elegant, yet...well, strange. There was a manic gleam in those brown eyes, an almost unnatural serenity in his movements.

Sitting by Strange's side was a young man who was just as bald and ten times creepier in appearance. He was dressed in black, worn clothes that had probably been stolen from some homeless shelter. His skin was fair and his ears were large and shell-like. But the weirdest part was his eyes: his irises were eggshell-white, his pupils little black dots. That was all the proof that Jim needed that this man was not human. Not entirely.

Jim turned to Strange. "What was that?"

"You'll see." Strange drawled out all the syllables. An odd speech tic. "Allow me to introduce Basil. Basil just woke up this morning, didn't you, son?" He had his hand on the man's shoulder. His tone was warm and, indeed, paternal.

Basil grinned. "Yep." He was eyeing Jim like he was a Christmas present he couldn't wait to tear open.

"He was so confused, poor soul." Strange told Jim, sounding almost genuinely compassionate. "He had forgotten who he was, until I reminded him of his great talent. You see, Basil is a gifted performer. A chameleon of sorts. Would you like to see?" Basil raised his eyebrows slightly. Silently asking the same question.

Jim remained quiet for a second. Absorbing all of this madness. Before rejecting it. "You belong in your own asylum, Strange."

Strange's expression didn't change. But his voice deepened. Grew angry. Hostile, almost. "And you, James Gordon, belong in the past. The world has moved on. While you and others like you lived your sad, _normal_ lives, I was pushing the boundaries of evolution." He was standing right in front of Jim now. Looking down at him in all senses of the phrase. "The future belongs to my children and that future...is...here."

Jim peered past Strange to look at the man with the freaky-as-hell eyes. They were closing now. Two orderlies placed a familiar box on his shoulders, sealing his head inside. A button was pushed. Churning noises began to rise from inside, like laundry being bashed about in a washing machine. Jim watched as his stomach twisted. Strange looked proud as he did the same. At last, the whirling died down and the box was removed. Steam rose around Basil's head. Only it wasn't Basil staring through the vapor, but Jim. Or at least, a bald Jim with rippling skin.

"Astonishing." Strange commented.

An orderly came up behind the Jim lookalike and placed a wig on that shiny scalp. "Oh, yes. The finishing touch." Strange walked towards his creation and adjusted it. He stepped back, laughing under his breath. There. Now they were two peas in a pod. Jim's heart sank in deep mud.

"Introduce yourself, son." Strange instructed kindly.

"Nice to meet you." The lookalike's voice sounded like he was talking through a mouthful of peanut butter. He cleared his throat.

"What the hell?" Jim whispered, still stunned.

"Nice to meet you." The lookalike tried again. His voice's pitch went from high to low to high again.

"You son of a bitch!" Jim shouted.

"Son of a bitch!" The doppleganger echoed. His voice became painfully familiar. "Nice to meet you. I'm Jim Gordon."


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

In nature, only the strong survive. Gotham had the same law. True, strength could also be valued by social status and/or money. That was why Gotham had started under the rule of five aristocratic families. This was also why the Waynes were still the top dogs around here. But muscle and courage never dropped out of fashion - especially for those living on the other side of the law.

Butch Gilzean was strong, and that was why he had survived. He was sure that Tabitha had pulled through for the same reason.

Tabitha. That name alone was a sugared wound in his chest.

She'd been out of the hospital for a while now, and hadn't even called him. He'd learned about her return via rumor, and he'd had some of his boys spy on the new spot Barbara Kean had bought. Sure enough, the guy had come back with photos of Tabitha. Wearing outfits that drove him crazy. Drinking martinis. Kissing and cuddling Barbara. Butch had wanted to burn them. They all showed just how happy she was without him.

Butch rested his head against the window's grimy glass. The bus chugged onward, spitting out reeking fumes. Every now and then it lurched like it had the hiccups. Oh, yes. This was Butch's main form of travelling now. Ever since the Penguin had pecked his hand off, driving had become a major no-no. _Thanks again, boss. Remind me why I let you live again? Oh, right. Because I'm a moron._

The large man sighed. At least Penguin had sort of made up for what he'd done. He and his Plain Jane had made Tabitha's attacker pay, and now he had a job with a rising star. Hopefully, that star wouldn't be falling anytime soon. Otherwise, it would put a big, fat dent in Butch's reputation. What kind of respect could he get if he ended up working for a failure?

Another violent bounce, credited to a hole in the road. Butch's stomach collided with his lungs. Its contents swished about, promising disturbances. Grimacing, he stared out the window. Seeking distraction.

And found none. Gotham was the same as always. The sky was like a shredded mass of wet newspaper, varying in thickness and shades of gray. The decaying buildings looked like piles of dinosaur bones. Trash and filthy rainwater cluttered the gutters. Rats feasted in and around the garbage bins. People bustled about the sidewalk, pushing and shoving to get to work on time. In the time it took Butch to count to thirty, a good five purse-snatchings unfolded. No one, not even the cruising-by cops, lifted a finger to help the screaming ladies.

Home.

With every moment that passed, the city fell away like drandruff, and with it, Butch's already fading ease. Trees began sprouting up as if by magic. Great, silent sentinels. Some were bone-white. Others were dark with filth. Many were so furred with ivy that distinguishing them was impossible. More wildlife began to appear. Racoons. Squirrels. For a fleeting second, Butch saw a deer.

God, he hated the countryside. What rich people saw in living out in the middle of nowhere like hermits, he would never know. He just knew that, even once he reached his stop, he'd still have half a mile's hike to go. Yippee.

As if on cue, the bus shuddered to a halt. The doors slowly opened, screeching like damned souls. Butch snapped out of the trance of boredom that he'd put himself in. Wiped the drool from his dimpled chin. Looked around. Yep. Last one as always. Sighing, he saluted the driver with his metal hand before stomping off the bus. The contraption veered off the second he left it, encasing him in a thick cloud of toxins. Butch coughed and hacked. Slid his shirt's collar over the lower half of his face. But the poisonous gas still stung his eyes like angry wasps. Butch gritted his teeth. Pressed onward. Hoping that the week's paycheque would be worth all this.

* * *

The Sirens was quiet for the first time in days.

For the past few weeks, the place had been almost consistently filled with construction guys, plummers, electricians, and so on. Barbara would tell them what to do, and add that it would get ugly if they didn't do the job exactly as she wanted. Most workers were smart enough to obey without question. She was under the Penguin's umbrella, after all. But just to be certain that their club would be nothing short of perfect, Tabitha spent the days prowling amongst the men like a leopard. Sleek, silent, and deadly. More than once she'd sent workers off with injuries varying from sprained wrists to bleeding throats.

It always filled Tabitha with a savage glee, causing others pain. Always. Ever since she was a child. She'd trip the other little girls and laugh as their skinned knees wept blood, as their faces grew puffy and red. She would push teachers down the stairs when they didn't give her the A's that she had deserved. She had pulled the wings off flies and impale beetles with rusty nails. But her animal victims never got bigger than that. Tabitha didn't mind spilling blood and tearing flesh, but only to those that deserved it. Those who pissed her off or disgusted her. Cute little puppies, kittens, and bunnies never did either. In fact, she'd grown up with all three of those pets.

Yes. While Tabitha would never reveal it to anyone, she quite liked animals.

Though recently, the penguin had been scratched off her list forever.

In the almost serene silence, Tabitha worked. She continued oiling her whip, running her dark hands over the worn leather. She fantasized wrapping it around that skinny, pasty throat. Squeezing until eyes bulged, the tongue lolled out like a dog's, and the horrid gasps abruptly ended. It filled her with tainted delight. Tainted, because it seemed unlikely that she could perform this delicious deed in the near future. Now that Barbara had decided to drag that fancy-clothed fruitcake into their business, she may never get to.

Tabitha rubbed her temples. But even as she did, the thoughts refused to budge.

She and Barbara had argued about it for weeks, even before the incident with...with...

Well. Anyway. Neither woman could understand the perspective of the other. This was new. Typically, they could practically read each other's thoughts, and rarely had their opinions strayed far apart. They were usually two peas in a rotten pod, which was exactly why they had decided to open a business together. They were two strays trying to build a home.

In order to do that, Barbara had claimed that they needed insurance. A crucifix to ward off the blood-sucking gangsters that would no doubt try to barge in and take over. Tabitha had insisted that whomever walked in would quickly regret it. But Barbara had said that Tabitha's ferocity, while amazing, wasn't quite enough. They needed something big. A name that no one would cross. Tabitha had angrily yelled that she would rather die than work with the man who killed her brother. Barbara had answered, with the same amount of rage, that if they didn't ask Penguin for help, then Tabitha may very well get her wish.

They'd yelled. Called each other awful names. Thrown plates and tiles at each other. At one point, both had done something that they couldn't take back, no matter how much they kissed and hugged later. In her anger Tabitha had taken the sweater that Barbara had made for her during the hospital. She'd taken a pair of scissors and shredded the wool garment before Barbara's horrified eyes. In response, Barbara had taken a framed photo of them together and thrown it in the fireplace.

The two women hadn't spoken to each other for days afterward. They'd gone on with their daily duties, living under the same roof and eating together, but never spoke more than five words each day. It had been torture. Then, bit by bit, the ice thawed and the hatred dissolved. Tabitha had felt like she'd woken up from a deep nightmare. Never wanting to feel that way again.

Thus, Penguin was back in their social circles. Tabitha hated it. But if it meant keeping Barbara, then she'd hate in silence.

As if on cue, the bedroom door opened. Tabitha glanced up and felt the air rush out of her lungs. Barbara was striding out, wearing a cheetah-print outfit that hugged all the right places. Black stockings and high heels accenuated her slender, nimble legs. Her shoulder-long blonde hair was straight and clean, like a golden waterfall. Her make-up was there, but barely. She looked like a true businesswoman of the underworld. Tabitha swallowed, keeping her expression neutral. "Hey, babes." She smiled. "Going out?"

Barbara sighed. Checked her reflection on a gold-framed mirror. "Yeah. I gotta go to the GCPD and get Pengy's little info nuggets. Just to make sure he appreciates it, I'll add extra ketchup."

Tabitha scoffed. "Yeah. I think he wants some data on Arkham or something?"

"You got it." Barbara collected her purse. "He wants to kick Strange's ass." She faced Tabitha and shrugged. To them, murder was as inconsequential as ordering the wrong type of pizza. "Can't say that I blame him. When you like to play God, well, the Devil's minions will bite you hard."

Tabitha smirked. "Preach it."

Barbara blew Tabitha a kiss. "I'd love to stay and chat, honey," she said, "but I got some clues to find and, well, a penguin to feed." She chuckled as she said that. Good sign. Tabitha put down her whip for a moment. Leaning forward on the divan, she rested her elbows on her knees. Leather on leather. "What're you hatching?"

"Moi?" Barbara put on a cruel mockery of innocence on her face. It dropped like a veil just as quickly. "Just doing what Penguin asked me, baby. After I'll have helped him out, Penguin will trust me." She wiggled her brows. "And he may, in time, slip up and reveal some deep, dark secret."

Tabitha slowly smiled, finally understanding her friend's reasoning. Barbara had never been interested in merely climbing up the social ladder. No. She planned on owning the ladder.

Fine. So did Tabitha.

* * *

Forget the flippin' paycheque. What awaited him in the saloon was better than a million bucks, a cupcake, and a can of coke all in one. The TV was still on, for starters. Some shampoo commercial was playing, filled with ladies flipping their shining manes about. The remote was lying on its side on the Persian carpet. A ceramic bowl sitting on the coffee table was empty save for a few burnt corn kernels. But best of all was the plush, purple divan positioned in front of the television. A handmade quilt (Butch recognized it because his own grandma still made those, even now when her mind floated between eras) was draped over the Penguin and Plain Jane. They had fallen asleep in a sitting position. Their heads leaned into each other so closely that every time Penguin exhaled, it ruffled Plain Jane's hair.

Butch smirked, wishing that Tabitha were here to witness such a hilarious sight. But then, he realized that he'd gotten the short straw. The Penguin had fallen asleep beside someone, no matter how boring-looking she was. Butch hadn't, and it hurt to admit it.

Rather than dawdle in his own self-pity, Butch cleared his throat. Nothing. He did it again, this time raising the volume a bit. Ruby's eyelids fluttered. Slowly opened. Dark blue eyes, large and round, widened even more when they saw this unexpected guest. Butch blinked. Ruby was in front of him, arms crossed. The large man frowned in confusion. Glanced back at the sofa. There was an empty space where Ruby had been just a jiffy ago. He rubbed his temples. Not enough coffee, that's it. His senses would pick up the pace soon enough. Ruby crossed her arms. The coldness in her eyes and the tightness in her jaw was more than a little unsettling. "What?" She hissed.

Butch tapped his finger on his watch. "Ten-thirty, doll. The boss told me to be here by that time. 'Sides, Kean is on her way."

Ruby's eyebrows flew up. "Her? Here?" She groaned, pinching her nose's base. "Splendid." She glanced back at Oswald. He looked so peaceful in his sleep. So...vulnerable. Ruby felt a wave of tender protection fill her like wine in a chalice. Glaring back at Butch, she jerked her chin towards the kitchen. "Go on, I'll be there in a moment."

Butch shrugged. Trudged away. Once he'd left her sight, Ruby felt free to go near Oswald's face. She could never get so close if he were awake. Ah, the shrouding embrace of Morpheus be blessed. Ruby watched him, enjoying these spare few seconds. His face was long and angular. He had hollow cheeks no matter how many meals she put into him. His skin was white as polished ivory. For the first time, Ruby noticed a faint spray of freckles huddled upon his nose. Eleven, she counted. His eyelashes were long and dark. His hair was as soft as feathers, his lips thin rosebuds. Ruby's heart fluttered like a caged canary. Restraining her movements, she gently rocked his shoulder.

His eyes fluttered. Opened. His irises looked like Arctic ice in the sunlight. Ruby straightened faster than one could blink, smiling sheepishly. She cupped her elbow from behind her back. Smiled as she watched him reemerge into the real world. When his eyes rested on her, Oswald gave a tiny smile. "Good morning."

The way he said it sent shivers down her spine. Trying to hide her blush, Ruby grinned. "Good morning to you." She sighed, jerking her thumb towards the hall. "The Iron Giant just showed up."

"Butch?" Oswald stared at her before glancing at the clock. When he saw the time he closed his eyes, fell back, and groaned. Ruby offered him her hand. Watching her trustingly, he took it. She hoisted him up. Brushed him off once he was standing. "Go on, get ready. I'll feed the beast."

Oswald's eyes shone with gratitude. They both knew that a king couldn't be seen in such a _human_ way by his subjects. A king had to be seen by his allies the same way as his enemies: untouchable, perfect, and beyond their weapons. Oswald smiled. "Thank you. And please ensure that he doesn't eat all the ham again."

Ruby winked. "On it." She was about to leave when Oswald's soft voice called, "And..."

She turned around. At the ready. Oswald smiled softly at her. Rubbing the back of his neck. "Thank you for last night. I needed a distraction."

Ruby blinked. Smiled as her heart took flight. Saluted him. "Of course, Oz. See you soon." She left him wide-eyed. Smiling with a mixture of flattery and embarressment. No one had ever called him 'Oz' before...and meant it.

Oswald grinned all the way up the stairs.

* * *

Ruby was quick to shower and change. As always, her maid's uniform was excellent camouflage. White blouse. Black cardigan. Black skirt. Stockings. And, just for fun, onyx earrings and black diamond rings. Ruby examined herself in the mirror. Still the same as always. Yet...different.

She'd called him 'Oz'. And slept in the same space as him twice. Different, indeed. Ruby felt less...plain. Invisible.

A noise erupted from the kitchen. The fridge door opening, then closing. A moment later, there was swearing. Ruby sighed, "Oswald, please hurry up..."

The kitchen was just two staircases away, and the finish line was hardly a reward. Butch was hovering over the sink, soaking his tongue in the faucet's flow. Ruby placed a hand on her hip. "The coffee not to your liking?"

The water flow dried up. Butch swung around, a grimace on his round face. A sense of security swept over him as he took in her attire. She wasn't the Penguin's pillow buddy anymore. She was just the maid. "Nah. The coffee's fine, but the bacon's God-awful." Indigo eyes flitted to the discarded plate on the counter. Anger flashed through her. "That was _my_ bacon, you glutton!" She ran to the tiled counter. Grimaced at the greasy, congealed food. A white, foamy glob of saliva was spread across the strips like a cloud. "Ew." With a heavy heart she dumped the bacon into the sink. Pushed a button and listened to the garbage disposal shred it up. Butch grimaced as he watched the food vanish. "What kind of bacon do you eat?"

Ruby didn't look at him. Started washing the dish. "The tofu kind." She replied tersely.

Butch scoffed as though she'd just told him that she regularly feasted on earthworms. "Why the hell would you wanna do that? Normal bacon tastes delicious."

"It's also the fried flesh of a slaughtered animal." Ruby's words were like swords. Finished with the dish, she began tidying up the kitchen. Never once looking at him. Butch stared at her for a few minutes like he was trying to see through her. Ruby pretended not to notice as she watered the plants aligning the windowsill, swabbed the table, and began cleaning the stoves.

"Uh, Ruby?" He said her name like he wasn't sure how to pronounce it.

"Yes?" Her tone was as clipped as a hedge. She still wasn't looking at him.

"Why don't you eat meat?" He asked bluntly.

"Three reasons." Ruby held up the correct number of fingers. "One: meat tastes disgusting. Two: I physically feel better. And three: I'd rather not be responsible for the killing of animals that didn't do anything to me."

"But you need meat." Butch argued.

"Well, I've been a vegetarian since I was thirteen. Exactly half of my life." Ruby smirked sourly at him. "So, yeah, I don't think I need it."

Butch scoffed. "You're probably all weak and stuff."

Ruby dropped the spray and the sponge. Turned around and laid her hand on the counter. "Oh, yeah?"

Butch nodded.

Ruby clapped. "Woo!" She dropped on her toes and hands. "Let's go!" In a second she was performing push-ups with the ease one cultivates in drinking a glass of water. Butch watched her push, counting to five, then ten, telling himself that she'd drop. She didn't. Reaching twenty in record time.

Butch felt the color rise in his cheeks. He crossed his beefy arms across his barrel of a chest. "You're not proving anything." He informed her drily.

"Oh, yes?" Ruby said while still pushing. "Come push with me, then!"

Butch scoffed to hide his embarressment. "I won't sink down to your level." Ruby laughed as she jumped to her feet again, nimble as a monkey. Smirked at Butch through the thick curls covering her eyes. She pushed them away in a flourish gesture. "Checkmate."

The doorframe cleared its throat. Both heads turned to see Barbara Kean leaning against it like some pop singer in a music video. "Good morning, babies. How's playtime coming along?"

Ah, sass. Well, Ruby could sass right back. "Fine." She brushed off her blouse. "Just showing Butch the benefits of not consuming animal carcasses." Butch stabbed her with his eyes. She took the blow with a smirk. Barbara eyed Ruby for a moment, seemingly confused. When she'd first met this Plain Jane, she'd been so meek and quiet, speaking to Barbara's toes rather than her face. Now, though...

Barbara shook it off. Thinking it made it real. She flashed a smile that could melt icecaps. "How sweet. So, where's our little Pengy?"

"Right here." Everyone twisted their heads to see Oswald. Ruby's throat dried like the desert. He looked...well, amazing. Robed entirely in royal purple, he stood with a grace that almost wasn't human. His hair was styled into perfect, spiked arches. His tie was well-pressed, and a broach of a diamond sword sat over his heart. Every inch of him was clean, perfumed, and divine. Ruby looked away to hide her blush. Barbara, on the other hand, smiled knowingly. "Hello, Ozzy."

Oswald winced slightly. That pet name sounded better from another pair of lips. Nevertheless he approached her. They exchanged air kisses. "Darling," He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, "you look like half a model and half like a goddess."

"I'm sure you know all about that sort of thing." Barbara's eyes hungrily examined his elegant outfit. She turned to Ruby. "Hey, cleaning lady! You iron well!" Ruby didn't answer. Just watched her. Hands balled up at her side. Barbara turned back to Oswald, who was watching her with something near irritated. "Why won't she answer me?"

Oswald cleared his throat. "She is probably just tired."

"Ah," Barbara sighed in faux amazement, "how are you so patient with her? I'm sure there's better help elsewhere."

"Myself," Oswald said curtly, "I quite like Miss Sinclair's services. Now, onto your task."

"Oh, consider it done." Barbara winked. "I'll be all over those cops like mud on a pig."

"Mind if I come?" Both Barbara and Oswald turned, shocked, to Ruby. She still looked battered...but still standing. And she was thinking. Barbara...there was something off about her. Ruby wasn't great with people, she knew, but every time she looked at the blonde she felt uneasy. That was why she couldn't allow her to go on this small mission alone. She wanted to make sure they got the truth. All of this bubbled behind a calm mask of a face. Barbara narrowed her eyes, but smiled. "Of course! Let's hit the mall afterward! You can carry my bags."

Ruby snorted, as if to say, _Dream on_. Ignoring her, Barbara spun on her high heels and began to march out. "Come on, then, maid! Time is money!" Ruby followed, giving Oswald a reassuring look as she did. Oswald replied with his eyes, pleading her to be careful. Ruby nodded faintly.

A moment later, both women were gone. Oswald sighed. Lurched forward and rested his hands on the table. Butch didn't move. He didn't like being alone with this man. The last time he had, he had paid for that mistake.

"Butch," Oswald's voice was like broken glass, "if Ruby does not return home within a two-hour time frame, go looking for her. If needed, get the information out of Miss Kean."

Butch nodded.


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The journey to downtown was not a pleasant one. Not that the two women fought, mind you, but because the awkwardness between them reached _Twilight_ levels. Everything that came out of Barbara's red lips was either a comment about Ruby's low status or an order. Ruby wanted to just dump the bitch and do this mission on her own. Three motives held her back. One: Oswald would have been upset. Two: Ruby couldn't pass off for Barbara in order to sway Jim Gordon; she simply lacked the charm. And three: a small part of her wanted to believe that she was exaggerating. That Barbara wanted to truly help Oswald, not out of personal gain but for the supposed friendship between them.

It was a _very_ small part of her.

The taxi trudged through the grime and partially-melted garbage. Smog-tainted air dragged across the windows' glass like a veil. Barbara and Ruby sat as far away from each other as they could. Half a dozen parcels sat between them. Barbara's little side-stops had cost more than Ruby's yearly salary. Everything from shoes to make-up to...more shoes. Insert groan here. But at least Barbara was also paying for this taxi trip, which she had insisted upon in the first place. Plus, they were almost there. Ruby could handle another five minutes.

The taxi passed a lamppost near the corner. A bunch of shabbily-dressed urchins - homeless orphans, more than likely - were gathered around it, laughing crazily as they played with a puppy. But as the taxi inched closer, Ruby realized with horror that the kids weren't playing with the puppy.

They were torturing it.

Without a second thought she climbed out of the taxi. "Hey!" Barbara protested. Ruby ignored her, just as she ignored the beeping cars and curses. Well, except for a quick flash of the middle finger, that is. All she could hear were the puppy's whimpers and cries, combined with the children's manic laughter. It was almost more than she could handle. Almost. "Stop that!" She screamed. Ignored. "Hey, stop that!" The kids ignored her even as her shadow fell over them. She pushed and shoved her way to the pole, not caring that the kids she knocked over fell onto the pavement. She glared down at them. "What're you doing?! Stop that!" The children finally backed away. Ruby got a good look at them. There were seven of them in total, ranging from the ages of five to twelve. None of them looked like they had ever been full, or encountered a bar of soap. Their clothes were little better than soiled rags, and their hair was either unkempt and long or shaved off.

Normally, such a sight would evoke sympathy in Ruby. Now, it just made her angrier.

"You suffer," she growled, "and yet you harm this defenseless animal as if you're somehow any better!" Ignoring their wide eyes, she knelt down to the puppy. She grimaced and tried not to cry. It was emanciated, so much so that she could count its ribs. There was so much filth on its fur that she couldn't tell what color it was. A string was tightly tied to its neck. Carefully, she undid it and scooped the trembling animal into her arms. Rising, she heard one kid comment, "no one would even care about that mutt."

Ruby spun around, her hand searching. It found the culprit's throat. Lifted him off the ground. It was an eight-year-old boy with a faded baseball cap. Caked with dirt, it was hard to tell his skin color. Gasping and convulsing, he scratched at her fingers in an attempt to free himself. Heh. Yeah, right. Ruby glared at the boy with an almost supernatural hatred. "Listen to me, you stupid little runt." She hissed. "You're right about one thing: no one cared about this mutt...until I showed up. But you know what the difference is between him and you?"

She inched a little closer. "By this afternoon, this puppy will be in an animal shelter. He'll be fed, bathed, and vaccinated. Since he's young and cute, he'll probably find a family before the week is out." She leaned even closer so that the kid couldn't look away. "You, on the other hand, will spend another five years at least here in the streets. You'll be forced to steal or dive in dumpsters to survive, and you'll risk freezing to death every winter. And you know what?" Her eyes narrowed. "If what I just saw is just the beginning, then the world would be better off without you and your friends."

With that, she dropped him. He fell in a raggedy pile on the cement. Without getting up, he began to cry. His sobs followed Ruby all the way back to the cab. Barbara was still there, staring at Ruby like she'd just grown a pair of goat horns. When she saw the puppy, a mixture of affection and disgust fell across her features. "Where'd you get this tramp?"

"Those kids were hurting him."

"I saw."

Ruby scratched behind the pup's ears, not looking at Barbara. Words blossomed and fell from her tongue. "Look...I'm sorry. I compromised our duty and I'm sorry."

"What're you talking about?" Barbara laughed. "That was one of the most amusing things I've seen in a while! Not even Tabby would pick a kid up by his throat. Jeez, girl, you're hardcore!"

"Not really." Ruby smiled faintly as the puppy licked her hand. "I just hate bullies."

"And yet you're working for one." Barbara noted with a smirk. Ruby turned to look at her. It was kind of unnerving. Her expression wasn't angry, reproachful, or upset. It was completely blank, with two big eyes staring emptily at her. Then, she turned to the driver. "Excuse me," she leaned closer to the man's seat, "is there an animal shelter anywhere in this area?"

"Sure." The driver pointed at the street before them. "It's just a block or so beyond the GCPD. Big and painted all green, ya can't miss it."

"Thank you." Ruby turned to Barbara. "You go on from here. I'll be back just in time for our little discussion."

Barbara shrugged. "Fine, whatever. It's just a dog, but if you wanna waste your time, then be my guest."

But Ruby had already slammed the door. Breaking into a run. Barbara glanced at the empty seat and sighed. Now, she had all these bags to carry.

* * *

Jim Gordon - or at least, what looked like Jim Gordon - was the very definition of 'laid back'. Leaning back in his chair and slurping down a raspberry slushie. Looking around with interest, he resembled a kid during his first day in school. Everything seemed fresh and new to him. Harvey noticed this, and couldn't help frowning. Jim had never looked so...new. Not even when he'd actually _been_ new; he'd always carried this air of experience and toughness to him. Except now.

Ah, who knows? Maybe he was just tired. Or maybe the people backing Strange up were really heavy. They'd have to be, for Jim to back off.

He told his friend exactly that. Smiling at an unnatural length, Jim agreed. "Oooh, they're heavy." But he wasn't looking at Harvey, but one of the secretaries.

"I don't want anything dangerous." Harvey said as Jim finally turned back to him. "I just like being tittilated."

"Seriously." Jim said, still grinning. "You don't wanna know."

Harvey chuckled. If he had a dime for every time a cop had told him that... "Remember that time you called me from the hospital? When you had Falcone on the gurney? And the whole town and their uncle were trying to kill you both?"

Still slurping, Basil froze. God damn it! The files he'd poured over...they must have been dated! He had no idea what this bearded, long-haired dude was talking about! But Father would be very displeased if he screwed up. Swallowing hard, he turned back to Harvey and slapped on a grin. "How could I forget?"

Harvey bought it. Thank God. "Remember what I said to you on the phone? Remember what I said?" Basil felt his smile slide off like fresh glue. Fuck! He kept thinking. Fuck, what do I say now? He fet like he was being tested on a subject he'd only skimmed through once. He tried to look apologetic. "I forget."

Harvey quirked a brow, but kept smiling. "That's funny."

An older man lumbered up to them, looking as hassled and scared as a mother who'd lost her kid in a supermarket. His elegant clothing clashed with his tanned, fit body and rough face. When he opened his mouth, the thickest English accent Basil had ever heard came clanging out. "Gordon! You're back! What happened? Where's Master Bruce? Where's Lucius?" When Basil didn't answer, the big guy turned to Harvey. "Where are they?"

"Alfred, take it easy." Harvey said in a poor imitation of a soothing tone.

Oh, right! "Alfred!" Basil said experimentally. "Alfred." The man turned to him. Basil smiled, trying to appear certain. "Relax. Master Bruce and Lucius are...heading back to Wayne Manor."

"Yeah, well, that's a load of bob-tosh for starters, innit? I just come back from there!" Alfred said, turning to Harvey. The bearded cop rested his chin on his knuckles. Out of the game.

Great. "What can I tell you? Maybe they..." Basil shrugged. "...stopped to get a snack!"

Harvey chortled behind his buttoned lip.

"So? What about Strange?" Alfred asked.

"It's complicated." Basil said, trying to ward the guy off.

It did. For about two seconds. "Well, go on, then! Whats?" He roared.

Basil tried again. "Complicated police business!" Winked at Harvey and turned away, slurping away. Alfred glanced at Harvey, confusion stamped on his tanned face. Harvey smiled apologetically. "He's got a touch of the flu."

* * *

Ruby's cellphone came to life, blaring Syd Matters' _Obstacles_ at full volume. Blushing, she apologized at the volunteer worker now holding the puppy. Quickly retreating to a corner, she extracted the phone from her pocket and held it up. The screen was dominated by a bouncing umbrella. Chuckling, she answered the call and held the phone to her ear. "Hey, Oz."

"Hi, Ruby." Oswald sounded relieved to hear her voice. "Are you alright?"

Ruby raised a brow. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Barbara told me that you left her to go to the GCPD on her own." His voice was thick with concern. "Did something happen? Perhaps she provoked you?"

"Oh, she did plenty of that." Ruby admitted. "But no. I just left for a minute because some punks were torturing a puppy. Just for fun! So I brought him to this animal shelter." Before any other anxieties could seep into Oswald's system, she added, "It's just a block away from the GCPD. I'll be there in a jiffy."

Oswald sighed. "Good. From the way Barbara described your departure, you seemed truly distressed."

Ruby deadpanned. "A puppy was tied to a pole and tortured by a horde of street urchins. I don't think anyone outside of sickos would be happy to see that."

"Indeed." Oswald agreed. She could hear him smiling. It tickled her heart. Warmed it. "You have a good heart, Ruby."

"So do you." Ruby countered. "A bit black, true, and hardened to murder, but good nevertheless."

There was a moment's pause. "I am a prominent crime lord." He reminded her. "'Good' is hardly the word one would use to describe me."

"Hey, I didn't say you were the next Mother Theresa." Ruby countered. "I'm just saying that you do have a good heart. I've seen people with no heart...and you have, too. We got rid of them together." There was a moment of silence. Not founded by shame, but fond reminiscing. And, on Oswald's part, absorbtion of words. "Do you truly mean that?" He whispered.

Ruby nodded even though he couldn't see it. "I've witnessed it. More than once."

Oswald made a small, choking sound. Then, he cleared his throat. "As have I."

Ruby smiled, blushing all the way to her roots.

"When do you expect to be home?" He sounded a bit eager. It was adorable.

"Eh." Ruby glanced at her watch. 3:44 p.m. "Let's see...I'd say five-ish." Lowering her arm, she asked, "What do you feel like having for supper?" Before he could answer, she piped up. "Oh, wait! Let me guess! Fish."

"Fish." Oswald echoed approvingly. "Specifically, I would like a trout baked in salt."

Ruby whistled as she made a mental note. "Any side dishes?"

A moment's silence. Then: "Perhaps some of your home-made French fries?"

Ruby grinned. "Absolutely." Then, as an afterthought, she asked, "Hey, maybe you can sate this nugget of curiousity I've had for a while now: why are they called French fries if they aren't French?"

"Um..." A minute's contemplation. Then, with uncertainty, Oswald replied: "Because French people eat them." Ruby burst into peals of laughter. After a second, Oswald joined in. Several workers, both voluntary and non, glared at her to hush up. After a few failed attempts, she finally sealed her lips. Held up a hand in apology. They ignored it, resuming their activities. Ruby leaned against the wall, wiping her eyes. "Oh, God." Then, remembering the sound that had been jangling in her ear, she commented, "you have a wonderful laugh."

She would never know it, but Oswald blushed. Hard. "Thank you." Clearing his throat, he adjusted his tie. A knock on the door grabbed his attention. "Oh! I'm sorry, but I must be going." Remembering his day's duties, he added, "There are a few gang messangers here in search of loans."

Ruby sniggered. "Go get 'em."

"Always." Oswald assured her. "Be home on time!"

"Always." Ruby countered. With exchanged goodbyes they hung up. Once their connection was broken, Ruby stared at her cellphone. Hugged it. Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to see a worker smiling at her kindly. A middle-aged woman, with skin as soft and wrinkled as worn leather and frizzy hair tied up in a ponytail. "Hello," she said, "I just wanted to thank you again. I often come by dead dogs, when I'm going home or coming in to work and..." She shuddered. "It's awful."

Ruby hugged herself. "It is." She paused. "I'm more of a mouse person, honestly. But even then, I couldn't just...you know." She shrugged. "Will the little one be alright?"

"He will be." The worker assured her. "It seems you arrived just on time. He had five deep cuts, and one of his eyes was nearly dislodged. But after a few days of receiving our cures, he'll be bouncing." Ruby thought back on those kids and felt nothing but rage towards them. "Damn." She whispered.

"I know." The worker sighed, looking around. "We save as many as we can. But for every animal we save, there are at least five getting gassed, run over, abandoned, or..." She shuddered. "Eaten."

Ruby's stomach did a queasy flip-flop. But, not wanting to discourage the worker (or drive herself into a hopeless depression), she lightly responded, "Well, er..." Hesitating, she reached up and unhooked the jet earrings. Holding them one last time, she memorized the feel of them. The cold, glassy texture. Then, she held them out to the worker. "Here." She poured them into the woman's astonished hand. "This isn't worth as much as sapphires or diamonds...but it should be enough for you to hire another five or six workers."

The woman stared at the earrings, wide-eyed, then began to tear up. "Miss..." She swallowed hard. Still not looking up. "Thank you." She quickly retreated.

Ruby watched her go. Then, ensuring that few people were paying attention to her, she made her way out via the backentrance. Stale antiseptic was replaced by cold, polluted air. Glancing around once to make sure no one was around, Ruby melted. Her sticky, claylike form climbed up the walls as quickly as a squirrel. A map of the city was printed in her mind. And her destination was circled in red.

* * *

The GCPD was as busy as ever. Dozens of criminals were crammed into large cages, fighting to either get some elbow room or pick the lock. Once or twice they grabbed at passenger-by's, but a quick round of ammo fired above their heads quelled them. Phones rang constantly. The light streamed from the windows and crawled across the floor, pale and weak as an infant. Cops either sat at their desks, working busily away, or walked around searching for the right piece of their puzzle.

Alfred was staying close to Harvey. Despair was printed on his face. "Still no answer!" He declared, holding up his phone. "Strange has him, I'm positive!"

Before Harvey could offer consolation to the distressed butler, Jim Gordon's muffled voice floated from behind him. "Holy crap!" He appeared from behind Alfred, munching on a bag of chips. "Are you still here?" He turned to Harvey. "I told you a thousand times: Strange is clean." He wiped his mouth with his shirt's cuff.

"In charge of that," Alfred pointed at Jim, looking at Harvey, "are ya?"

"You know, maybe I should send a team into Arkham." Harvey said. "Have a little look-sy."

"No, no, no!" Jim shook his head vehemently. "You don't wanna do that. Trust me. It's a terrible idea." When Harvey still didn't look convinced, Basil tried a different route. "How long have you known me?" Harvey bit his lip. Slowly nodded. Moved by fraternity. "Okay." He said. "If you're good, then I guess I'm good."

Basil nodded, smiling smugly, until Alfred piped up. "I don't know what's got into you Gordon, but you're just...just..." Basil turned to the British man, daring him to continue. He did, fearlessly so. "...Weird."

A slender sihlouette emerged from the dimness. Her blonde hair hung around her face like a halo. A dark angel. "Hey, Alfred." She said casually, as if they were two friends just meeting up for coffee. When the British man looked at her, his face drained of color. All he could manage was, "Ms. Kean."

"How's the butling business?" She asked as she stepped in front of him.

Basil eyed her with not-so-subtle lust in his eyes. Saying nothing. Harvey fingered his collar not for lust, but for nervousness. "To what do we owe the...uh..."

"Jimmy, my love." Barbara said sweetly, ignoring everyone else. "I'm sure you're oh so very busy, but could we have a word in private?" Without waiting for an answer she walked away, her hips swaying to and fro. Basil watched them hungrily. "You bet." He breathed out, licking his lips. Harvey watched him go with nothing short of shock in his eyes. The two reached a desolate spot near the entrance. People swam past them, but never close enough to be able to hear their exchanged words. Barbara eyed him from behind long, dark lashes. "Well, you look terrible."

"Gee, thanks, Barbara." Basil replied, grinning widely. "You're looking pretty good."

"Shucks." Barbara stated. A blank mockery of flattery. "Quick question: what the hell's going on down at Arkham?"

"Two questions right back at ya, gorgeous: why ya asking and, uh..." Basil wiggled his brows. "What's in it for me?"

"I'm asking because a dear friend of mine wants to know the answer." Barbara gave him a sly look. "And what would you like to be in it for you?"

"Hey," Basil sniggered, "spring is here, baby."

Barbara frowned. This was new. Jim was never this flirty or playful. He'd never even called her 'baby', even when they had dated. "So now you like me again?" She asked.

Basil looked at her body. "What's not to like?"

Barbara kept staring at him. Her confusion was deepening into something else. "So you've forgotten about Lee?"

"Lee?" Jim looked at her like he didn't know who she was talking about it. Barbara's eyes widened. Fear gripped her as realization dawned on her. Basil was smacked with fact. "Lee Thompkins!" He shrugged. "Ah, screw that ho. Water under the bridge."

"You're not Jim." Barbara whispered, almost too scared to do so. Basil's expression became blank. His heart stopped. "Say what now?"

"You're. Not. Jim!" Barbara repeated, louder this time. Loud enough for Harvey to turn around. Basil was sweating bullets now. But he couldn't fail. His father relied on it. He had to fix this. Now! "Whoa," he reached out to Barbara, "hold on there, woman-"

Barbara slapped him so hard that his head twisted around. Revealing his hideous, disfigured face for all to see. The department froze in their tracks. Tension, which slowly built into horror, overpowered the building like some disgusting stench. They were all frozen, like animals when they see an incoming tornado. Waiting for disaster. Fearing it. Nobody dared to speak, but Harvey did. "Holy Mother of Saints!"

"Holy cow!" Someone else cried.

Barbara inhaled deeply.

The imposter glanced back at her. The cheek that she had slapped had all but flapped over the rest of his face, the handprint still clearly there. It was a face of wet clay.

And its sucessor saw it. Quickly hid herself.

Covering his face Basil ran out of the police station, pushing Barbara aside. He'd just made it out, fingers frantically readjusting his features, when a body slammed into his. They both went toppling across the pavement, with the assailant still holding on. He fought and kicked and scratched to no avail. The assailant didn't let go. Impossibly, he could feel the muscles in the arms bulging like balloons. "Clayface." A girl's voice purred in his ear. "So nice to finally meet you. I heard your body had been frozen until they perfected the formula on other subjects, but still...damn!"

Basil's shock stilled his movements. He remained where he was, feeling his skin rippling like water beneath a wind. But then he remembered his father's words and concentrated. Ruby watched, stunned, as the man turned to clay and slithered out from beneath her fingers. She tried to grab him to no avail. His gelatinous form crawled out of the public' eye, speeding into a corner. Ruby gritted her teeth. "Oh, no you don't!" Converting to her own soupy form, she raced after him. All sounds and light became muted, replaced with stinking, dark rot. Amongst all this stillness, Basil sped like a bullet. Climbing up the walls, Ruby blocked his path. Reformed with a wicked grin. The pile of clay groaned before forming, too, into Basil. In all of his bald, creepy-eyed glory. Ruby grimaced.

Basil growled, "I came here to get the GCPD off our scent, not to fight with some freak!" He gestured to her. "Who are you, anyway?!"

Ruby inhaled. "Clayface Point Two."

Basil's annoyed expression melted into a startled one. "No."

"Yes." Ruby took a step forward. "I remember you now. I heard about you on the news, a long time ago. You're that scummy actor who went crazy when they made a remake of one of your films without you!"

"No!" Basil yelled. "I-I'm from Arkham! Only there!"

Ruby scoffed. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. But the fact is, you died. I guess they tried to give you the formula, but it didn't work. So they killed you all over again, froze you, and tried it out on others." Ruby chuckled. Held out her hand. It tripled in size. Grew muscular. Hardened into a fist. "I was the only 'success'."

Basil blinked at her, fighting back tears. Father had told him that he was completely unique. And yet here was another with the same abilities. It was as if Fate had pulled the rug from underneath his feet and sucker-punched him.

Or maybe...

Basil's expression hardened.

...he could punch back.

Basil threw his body back and yelled. It morphed as he screamed, bulging and towering and sprouting hair. Ruby watched, horrified, as her opponent turned into a giant grizzly bear. Standing on its hind legs it breathed heavily. It glared down at her from its eight foot-perch. Ruby growled. "We don't have to fight!" She tried.

Her plea had, ironically, the exact opposite effect. The bear howled and slammed its body down. The earth seemed to tremble. It lunged at her, swiping with unnatural speed. Ruby dodged the first two blows; but the third striped her side crimson. She cried out and quickly morphed. She stretched out five extra feet. Her limbs sank beneath the surface, like snakes slinking into a burrow. She wasn't a snake, exactly. But she was close enough. Ruby avoided the hits, speeding towards the bear, and curled her body around its middle. Squeezed with all her might. The bear moaned in pain...

...and all of a sudden was another snake, its scaly body tangled with her own. Ruby stared at its in terror. The snake regarded her with detachment before lurching forward. Fangs glistened with poison. Ruby's hands shot out and grabbed the scaly beast by the throat, throttling it. The snake gasped and sputtered. Went limp for a second. Ruby dropped it and quickly summoned her cartiladge wings. Took the sky. A fleshy rope wound about her ankles, anchoring her to the earth. "Aw," Basil yelled, "leaving so soon?!" He yanked with all his strength. Ruby crashed to the floor and quickly became clay. Sank beneath the cracks before Basil could reach her. He got to his knees, searching desperately. "Where are you?!" He demanded.

Ruby reformed right behind him, clinging to a ladder hanging from one of the apartments. Acquainted both of her boot soles with the back of his head. "Right here!" She tore a piece off her forehead and threw it. The chunk thickened and lengthened into a hard, coccoon-like manacle. Basil fought and struggled. Ruby dropped to the ground. Panting. "You just had to pick a fight." She shook her head. "Why don't you get a life?!"

"Fighting is my life!" Basil countered savagely. "It's what I was made for! You too, Number Two!"

Ruby flinched at the nickname. "Whatever. I have better thing to do. I can fight fine!"

Basil smiled in a creepy fashion. "Good. Let's see it." With a yell he broke through his bonds like they were made of paper. Ruby gasped. Before she could blink he curled up into a ball and rammed into her full force. Ruby flew through at least ten feet before hitting the wall. It knocked the wind out of her. Made her see black stars. She slid to the ground, still dizzy, when a pair of huge hands grabbed her by the shoulders and rammed her into the wall again, each time causing a fracture in her skeleton and lacerations in her body. Ruby tried to fight back, change form - hell, _breathe_ \- but it happened so quickly and so violently that her body refused to obey her. It was frozen with terror. The hands stopped for just a minute. "You could have been me!"

A sharp kick sent her sailing upward before crashing on the cement. Ruby cried out and curled up in a defensive ball, bleeding and shaking. "Instead, what are you?!" Basil leered over her. "Just a joke!"

Ruby's eyes opened. She slowly got to her feet. Wincing. Each step felt like she was sticking her limbs into a vat of acid. Basil let her, probably out of amusement more than anything else. Ruby trembled terribly but stayed afoot. "My Master told me...I'm perfect...the way I am." She glared up at him.

Basil wasn't amused. "Then he had low standards."

Ruby's agony was instantly forgotten. What had been bubbling beneath the surface burst forth in a blood-red wave. With an unholy scream she changed form again. She grew until she was ten feet tall, her entire body stretched out like taffy, and her eyes almost glowed with malevolence. Dozens of hands sprung from her body and reached hungrily for Basil. For every one that Basil fought off, two more yearned to grab him. Grab him they did, dragging him towards Ruby. She barely had to move at all. Her hands slowly retracted, bringing a struggling Basil along with them.

When he got to destination, he barely saw it coming. Ruby seized him by the face with two hands. Another one was closed around his throat. A fourth kept his eye open. The fifth did the digging.

Basil's screams drenched the air with white-hot pain, rising and falling before ending abruptly. Ruby, whose face was now flecked with blood, held up her grisly prize: one of those colorless eyes, slimy and hot. She turned back to its original owner. Basil had passed out. He almost looked serene in spite of the tapestry of gore on his face. Ruby smirked. Pocketed the eye. Hopefully, a careful examination would help her and Oswald figure out what was going on.

But they didn't need the rest of Basil. The hospital could pick through their leavings.


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Hours later, a peculiar package was left on Arkham Asylum's doorstep. The orderlies were the first to see it: Basil Karlo, former actor and reanimated cadaver. He had looked strong and confident as he'd strolled out, wearing Jim Gordon's face. Now, he looked like he'd gotten on a spider cowboy's bad side. He was encased in a dry, rubbery coccoon of sorts, with a thick piece of duct tape over his mouth. When they got closer, they made two grisly discoveries: first, that one of Basil's eyes had been carefully scooped out like a peach pit. But as they picked him up, the empty socket began to fill with...well, clay. As they looked, the clay bubble solidified and formed a replica of the remaining eye.

Second was the note tucked in between the folds of Karlo's bonds. Written angrily, and dotted with brownish blood, was the message: TELL STRANGE TO SEND AN ACTUAL CHALLENGE NEXT TIME.

Because the letter was indirectly addressed to Professor Strange, it was placed in his hands. He read over it carefully, trying to decipher both its meaning and author. The first was simple enough: whomever had done this to Basil hadn't considered him a worthy opponent, even taking an eye as a sort of gorey trophy. Why? Professor Strange didn't know, but he liked to think that he would find out soon enough. But clearly, Basil had inflicted some kind of damage. After a few brief tests, he discovered that the blood smearing the note wasn't Basil's. Basil's blood type was A Positive. This was O Negative, and the hormone components suggested that it belonged to a female.

O Negative. Why did that type seem familiar?

Setting the note down, Professor Strange turned to his computer. Punching in a few keystrokes, he unearthed the file of interest. A document from nearly a decade rose from the grave of forgetfulness. Smirking almost fondly, he read the basic information:

 _NAME: Ruby Sinclair_

 _AGE: 18_

 _D.O.B: May 12_

 _BLOOD TYPE: O Negative_

 _RACE: Caucasian_

 _HAIR: Fair_

 _EYES: Blue_

 _HEIGHT: 5 foot 7 inches_

 _WEIGHT: 145 pounds_

 _NEXT OF KIN: Jasper Sinclair (father), Opal Sinclair (mother)_

 _DIAGNOSIS: Patient exhibits very serious skin and organ deformities as a result of her cells' incapacity to reproduce correctly. According to the patint's parents, this is a condition that runs in the family. However, becaue of their union, the effects were doubled within the patient's genetic make-up. Skin often breaks down into sores. The veins in eyes frequently break, staining the scleras red. According to the patient's parents, this first occured during the patient's birth and it is where her name comes from. Problems in reproduction in the blood cells have caused anemia, and the same issue has occured in white blood cells. The organs keep threatening to fail. The patient's parents have reported to keeping the child indoors for most of her life to avoid her falling ill. However, doing so has had biological and psychological consequences. Complete lack of vitamin D, which is obtained via sunlight contact, is one of them. In addition, the patient is extremely shy and fearful in new surroundings, similiar to how a very young child may behave. Rusty vocal chords suggest that she has spoken very little throughout her childhood, and her behavior is very socially underdeveloped._

 _UPDATE: The patient's parents have not contacted or visited her since her arrival. This has caused a relapse in the subject's progression, to the point that she has refused to leave her cell, interact with others, or even eat. Hopefully, the experimental treatments will keep her body from destroying itself further._

Indeed, the treatments had been a success. To think, Strange's original intention had simply been to supply Ruby's body with the healing properties the clay provided! Instead, she had been the only subject to survive the dose. Then again, maybe it was _because_ of her condition that allowed her body to fuse with the mixture so well! Strange remembered watching Ruby for the months afterward, examining her powers' progression and her mind's repairment. But for all of this amazement, Ruby's powers still did not match Basil's. She could not turn into animals. She had a time limit. She could not shift her form to create weapons out of her limbs. And yet, she had won.

Professor Strange examined the two photos. The first was of Ruby when they had first brought her in. The second showed her the day she left Arkham Asylum. It was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

The man sighed, removing his spectacles. Well, at least he now knew for sure who had been responsible for the break-in some time ago. At the time, he had believed it to be Basil; or maybe some thief with a gun that shot sticky projectiles. But now he knew the truth.

Ruby knew. And instead of dropping Basil off at the police station, she had brought him back here.

She had not betrayed her kind.

* * *

Ruby carefully slipped into the kitchen, making sure not to make a sound. Glanced about, left and right. Everything was just as she had left it...except for the counter. A can of sardines was sitting there, the cap closed. A half-eaten loaf of bread rested beside it, as well as a jar of mayonnaise. Ruby rolled her eyes, immediately knowing who had done it. She eyed the clock. Good. Five o'clock. Right when she had said she'd be back. Oswald wouldn't freak out. Hopefully. Ruby locked the door behind her. Quietly put the sandwich ingredients away and wiping the counter clean. As she did, she almost felt like a burglar in her own home...No, that wasn't it. She just didn't want Oswald to see her right now. Bashed up and dusty, hiding an eyeball.

Speaking of which...

Ruby reached one of the cupboards and took one of the many empty jam jars. Now happier than ever than she always held onto these, she held her palm over the gaping lid. The flat surface quickly bulged until it looked like she was smuggling a ping pong ball beneath her skin. The flesh peeled away to reveal Basil's eye, with the thin vein still lassoed to the back of it. The small organ made a wet _plop_ as it hit the jar's bottom. Ruby shuddered. Quickly sealed the jar and stored it in the fridge. Right behind her tofu meatloaf, where no one but her ever looked. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the note. Swallowing, she placed it atop the lid.

Then, as she heard the thumping of a cane against hardwood, Ruby bolted up the stairs. Silent as a mouse.

Oswald appeared not a moment later, carrying an empty plate in one hand and a blood pair of pliers in the other. He noticed the lack of mess on the counter. Gave a small smile and departed, determined to have his business concluded by the time Ruby descended.

* * *

Soap. Hot water. Now.

Ruby barely remembered to lock the door. Growing two additional arms she twisted the tub's knob and grabbed a bar of scented soap. As the tub filled the yanked the curtains, darkening the white tiled room. Slowly, steam curled over the mirror and grew heavy in the air. She wrestled out of her clothes and stepped in, letting the water swallow her up to her shoulders. At last, she could relax. Sighing, she leaned back and rested her head on the bath tub's rim. She stared up at the ceiling, counting the cracks and slowing her breathing. The hot water massaged her bruises even as they darkened in color. She scrubbed at her hands, getting rid of the dried fluids residing between her fingers. Shivered.

Not at the encounter itself, though that had upset her plenty. Especially that comment about her Master. That was the straw that had broken the camel's back. Caused her to temporarily go nuts.

Ruby tried not to think about it. But her action was there. Glaring at her.

She had never gone so far in her violence. Sure, ever since Oswald had reverted to his normal self, Ruby had done a few things that she wasn't too proud of. But such actions had never gone so far as major maiming, even if it was to sate her curiousity and let Oswald know what they were dealing with. In those moments, Ruby had felt strangely disconnected from the world. Like she'd been walking on a cloud. Consequences and pain had meant nothing to her. Everything had been painted red. And in those colors, you can't see any red flags. Ruby tried to tell herself that Clayface would simply regrow his eye, but that didn't put her guilt at bay. Really, she felt that she was no better than Clayface. Instead, she was...worse. More limited.

 _"You could've been me!"_

 _But I'm not_ , Ruby countered. _I'm just...a mistake. A crime against nature, and what Strange did to me has nothing to do with it._

Tears beaded at the corners of her eyes. Refusing to cry, Ruby submerged in the soapy water. Her tears floated to the surface like little jellyfish.

* * *

Oswald held the note in one hand, the jar in the other. The text was simple, but he recognized the girlish, curly handwriting by now. He'd seen it on thousands of sticky notes, proclaiming that they were out of bread or eggs. This letter's content was slightly more sinister.

 _Hey, Oz_  
 _Here's a little souvenir from Mission 'Spill the Beans'. Jim Gordon was not Jim Gordon, but an experiment by Strange. I stole this specimen. Hopefully, it'll help us prepare for whatever waits for us beyond Arkham's gates._  
 _Hugs,_  
 _Ruby_

Oswald smiled at the paper. He couldn't remember the last time anyone since his mother had passed away. All throughout his childhood, his mother would leave little slips of paper that always brightened his day. They would vary from asking him to take out the trash to complimenting him with how well he'd cleaned his room. The notes' content were always ordinary. But they had comforted him. They had been hers.

Taking a deep breath, Oswald folded the note again and tucked it in his pocket. Hopefully, the blood drying on his coat would not stain it. Wasn't his fault. Those scumbags should have asked for more noble reasons for him to give them loans. Instead, eh...whatever projects they had had in store would rot in the grave with them.

But enough trivial matters. Now...the eye. Without the shadow of a flinch Oswald calmly spread a sheet of newspaper across the table. Then, taking a few of his tools, he undid the jar's lid and tipped the container over. The eyeball rolled out, accompanied by a few drops of pale red fluids. The moment it touched paper, the eye changed. Not in size, but in shape. First, it was a square. Then, as Oswald poked it with his screwdriber, it assumd the rocklike form of one of Ruby's jewels. Oswald's own eyes narrowed. "Hmm..." He picked it up with his pliers. In the time it took the eye to reach his line of sight, it had taken the form of a small mace. The surface was sweating, too. Oswald reached out. Brushed a fingertip against it. The consistency was very much like...

"...Clay."

Oswald turned around, still holding the eyeball. Ruby had just climbed out of the tub, if the red patches on her skin and dripping hair were anything to go by. She'd changed into a casual version of her maid attire: large blouse and knee-length black skirt. Oswald could see bruises and scratches along her wrists, collarbone, and neck. It boiled his blood. But seeing her brought with it ice-cold relief. He placed the eyeball back on the table, never looking away from her.

The moment he did, Ruby tackled him in a tight hug. Oswald automatically answered, resting a hand on the back of her damp head. A funny sight, considering she was a head taller than him. Ruby clung to him, shivering and breathing quickly. She buried her face in his hair, inhaling the lavender shampoo's essence. Felt the feathery texture, hardened in places by gel. The faint whiff of blood tickled her nostrils along with it. She felt the soft clothing, sticky with blood, and the thin body beneath it. Ruby closed her eyes. This was real. This was now. Before was just before. No longer existing. Except within her, forever to come.

But right now, there was just Oswald.

Finally, with a shaky breath, Ruby pulled away. Oswald did the same. Clinging to her shoulders, he examined her from head to toe. "What happened?" He asked firmly. "Did someone harm you?" He gestured to the eyeball behind him. "The owner of this eye, perhaps?"

Ruby gave a tiny nod. "Yeah. He...packed quite a punch."

Oswald's icy-blue eyes flashed dangerously. "He is a dead man walking."

Ruby chuckled. "Close enough, after what I did to him."

Oswald blinked up at her. "What?"

Ruby laughed again. This time, it was without humor. "Well, duh! How do you think I got that eye? Did I ask politely for it?" She shook her head. "No. I took it so we could see what we're up against." She paused slightly. "And...after thinking it over, I know what weakens it."

"What?" Oswald asked again. Without realizing it, his fingers gently kneaded into her shoulders. Ruby noticed. Didn't mention it for fear of terminating it. "Extreme cold." To demonstrate, she reluctantly released herself from Oswald grip and grabbed the eyeball. It turned to a vine wrapping around her fingers. Ruby walked to the fridge, opened the freezer's door, and tossed it in. Slammed the door quickly behind it. Oswald and Ruby waited for a minute. Then, two. Ruby swung the door open and peered inside. Smirked. Turned to Oswald and pointed towards the freezer's interior. "Ta-daaa!"

Curious Oswald lurched forward. Ruby grabbed his hand, steadying him. Oswald blushed as he thanked her with his eyes. Ran his thumb over her knuckles. Now standing side-by-side, they saw what had once been an eyeball. It had regained that form. But now, it was frozen solid. A thick layer of frost coated it. When Oswald poked it with his finger, it remained immobile. With a wild flash in his eyes, Oswald curled his hand into a fist and brought it down on the eyeball. He crushed it as though it were made of Styrofoam.

"Yes!" Oswald spun around and took Ruby into anothr embrace. She responded, if only to hide how scared her expression had become. At how she envisioned a part of her own body suffering such a fate.

"Brilliant, Ruby! Excellent work!" Oswald cupped her face, bringing it close to his. Ruby was about to protest when she realized that he'd merely rested her forehead against his. He closed his eyes, sighing contently. "Truly wonderful work." He opened them again. Glanced up at her. "I assume that eye belonged to the person who impersonated Jim?"

"Yep."

"Hmm." Oswald pulled back, now embarking on his train of thought. "Clever on Strange's part, creating something capable of shapeshifting. I wonder how much time it took him to perfect the process."

"Uh, I'm guessing...years." Ruby blurted out guiltily. "And he probably used it on other people. Plenty of them." She looked down at her hand, palm facing up. Tightened it into a fist. "And...maybe a few were successful. Before him, I mean."

Oswald turned to her with nothing short of horror on his face. "You don't think there's another faceless abomination out there, do you?"

Ruby bit her tongue. Tried to tell herself the pain she was feeling came from that. "Uh, I don't know. I do know that a bunch of other experiments were created. I doubt they can all shapeshift, though."

"Ah," Oswald looked away, waving his hand. "What does it matter? They will all die alongside their creator."

A cold, skeletal hand reached into Ruby's chest and squeezed her heart. "You can't mean that."

Oswald eyed her as though she'd gone mad.

Ruby stepped forward. Spoke gently. "Oz, I get that you're scared. But those things...they didn't ask for any of this. They didn't order Strange to play with their DNA."

"This does not erase the fact that Strange _did_ play with their DNA." Oswald replied. "Thus, they are no longer human. At least, not entirely. They have become something extremely dangerous."

"All of them?" Ruby challenged. "All the time?"

Oswald watched her with wide eyes. Ruby stopped. Pressed her fingers against her temples. Breathed slowly. When she looked up again, her expression was calmer, but still firm in opinion. "Oz, I saw those things. So I know how easy it can be to dismiss them as monsters. But they're not." She took a deep breath. "Not all of them, at least. They have thoughts and feelings, just like you and me."

"No." Oswald shook his head. "They're the hideous products of a deranged mind. They are like...like..." He stopped looking around for inspiration. After a moment he found one in a small, marble reproduction of Apollo and Daphne. Pointed at it. "They are like statues, at the hands of a blindman. There was probably an intentional design, but it was lost in the madness. The results are those...things."

Ruby tried to hold in the tears as she listened. But it was like trying to plug up a poorly-constructed dam. With every hole that was filled, two more burst forth, leaking water. One sentence kept playing over and over as her mind grew rusty with grief.

 _He's talking about me, and he doesn't even realize it_.

She looked down at her feet. As she often did when she didn't want people to see her face. But a few heartbeats later, cool fingers cupped her weak chin and lifted it. Glassy, indigo eyes looked up at icy-blue orbs. They were taut with concern and confusion, so gentle that it tore at her heart. Because she didn't deserve it. Ruby freed herself from Oswald's grasp. His hand remained where it had been, reaching in the empty air. "I...I need to be alone. I'm sorry!" She spun around and broke into a run. Oswald watched, baffled, as she disappeared down the hallway. Not turning back. His heart lurched painfully beneath his silken vest. Torn between running after her and remaining encompassed in shock, Oswald crashed in the nearest chair. Rested his face in his hands.

* * *

Ruby knelt before her Master's coffin, weeping inconsolably. She didn't even bother speaking at first. Her words would have drowned in the waterfalls flowing from her eyes. Her sobs bounced off the crypt's stone walls like tennis balls. She was about ten feet underground, and the air's earthy tang more than confirmed it. The candles had drowned in their own wax some time ago, so the only source of light came from the stair's top. But right now she felt at home down here. In the dark. The marble eyes of the dead looked down at her, impassive.

Finally, Ruby regained sufficient self-control to wipe her eyes and look up. Master's marble likeness towered over her, his expression as gentle and kind as it had been in life. For the first time, Ruby noticed that Oswald resembled his father's, despite the physical differences, whenever he adopted that expression.

Inhaling shakily, Ruby ran both hands through her damp hair. "Master..." She croaked. Shaking her head. "I don't know what to do. I can't tell him what I am." Her hands crashed to her lap like dead birds. She looked down at them. "How would he see me afterward? To him, I might not be any different than the 'monsters' at Arkham." She trembled. "I could have been one of them. Easily. It was just a matter of timing, and nothing else. Why can't he see? Those 'monsters' could have been any of us. It was a game of chance."

Ruby wiped her runny nose on her sleeve. "You know, Master, it didn't even seem so important at first. Not telling him, that is. I felt that we could be friends even without his knowing it. But it's all different now." Ruby squeezed her eyes shut as more tears ran down her cheeks."He's shared everything about his past with me, Master. Everything! From his being bullied as a kid to him killing a fisherman for his sandwich...and more. And what have I told him in return?" She shook her head. "Next to nothing, that's what. It's just..." A fist slammed against her chest, trying to excise the demons residing there. "Talking about it makes it real all over again. And, besides..." Ruby sighed. "Every day, the idea of telling him just gets harder. Farther away, you know? And..." Ruby sighed shakily. Partaking in her deepest secret, hidden like a stone in a cave. "I really care about Oswald. I care about our friendship, more than anything. If I ended up ruining it..." She closed her eyes. "I would never forgive myself."

Ruby sighed. Covered her tearstained face with her hands.

* * *

Half an hour later, the sun was beginning to set. Golden rays shone through the windows, painting the rooms in liquid amber. Flecks of lavender and pink ran across it like multicolored fireflies. A light shower drizzled the world, pattering gently across the roof's tiles.

A sunset had never been so beautiful than through a drunken haze.

Oswald drained his seventh glass of dark red wine. His hollow cheeks were as rosy as November apples, and his eyes had lost some of their sharpness. He didn't care. Ruby was normally his anchor, keeping him from floating away in all of this folly. Now, she was just dragging him down.

Specifically, it was her controversy. Oswald went over it from every angle, yet it refused to make sense. Why? Why did she care about the fate of those abominations? She didn't seem to hold Strange in high regard - at least, not enough to object when Oswald had implied murder. That was a start, he supposed. But what did it matter if those things died as well? They were crimes against nature, and no doubt dangerous. One glance at the bruises that Ruby had attempted to hide made that abundantly clear. Oswald knew that Ruby had a sympathetic soul to those who deserved it, but this seemed to be pushing it.

Why, why, why? Good for nothing questions, cawing in his ears like crows. Even the news that Barbara had given him moments ago on the phone couldn't cheer him up. Nor could the fact that, just because he'd willed it, he and a team of his lackeys would be going to confront Strange at nightfall.

Oswald groaned, and not only because the alcohol was burning a hole in his stomach. This incident, like a pebble thrown in a body of water, had caused ripples to spread across his mind. Inquieries that he'd tried to lay to rest came rising up like the walking dead.

Did it have something to do with Ruby's past? The past that she refused to share with him?

Oswald began to pour his eighth glass of wine. The liquid was a deep, passionate red, and thick like syrup. Like blood. It made his mouth water. Oswald began to sip at it, like a child licking at an ice cream cone. That was when his misty mind came up with an idea.

Ruby had mentioned something about being unsightly in the past. Maybe her parents had brought her before a certain someone who would do what he was paid for first, regardless of the legal issues, and ask questions later.

Coincedentally, it was the very same person that Oswald wanted to hang up on a meat hook.

Hmm. Well, Oswald also wanted Strange to suffer a slow, agonizing death. He might as well ask a few questions while he was at it.

There came a tap on his shoulder. Oswald spun around immediately. Ruby was standing there, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. When she saw him, her eyes widened. Without thinking she reached forward and snatched away both the bottle - now half-empty - and the glass. She quickly set them aside. Oswald watched her every movement, careful not to move. If he did, he feared he'd scare her away. Like a doe you might see in the woods. She certainly had a doe's gentle gaze. Especially now that she was kneeling before him. She took his hands in hers, squeezing softly. Oswald let her.

They stayed like that for a few moments, with only the sleepy twitters of birds seeping through the windows' glass. Neither dared to speak, for fear of breaking the spell. But alas, no moment lasts forever. Ruby sighed. "I'm sorry."

Oswald spoke up. "As am I."

Ruby stared up at him.

"I don't know what upset you so," Oswald said, "but I am still very sorry to have caused you pain." He hesitated. "It's the last thing I want to do."

Ruby's eyes, still sore from weeping, began to tear up again. She forced them back. Squeezed his hands. "Thank you. The same goes for me." She combed a hand through her curly mane. The other remained tightly wound to his. "I just...I understand, Oz, I really do. But those people...they aren't just devils crawling out of hell. They didn't ask to be what they are now. They probably don't want to be this now. From what I can guess, they are just as scared of themselves as we are of them."

Oswald listened carefully, trying to pick up on any clues. All he could gather was the intimacy with which Ruby spoke. It was almost as though she were speaking of people she had established connections with. Or even...Oswald shook the thought away. It was too absurd.

"That's why..." Ruby inhaled. "I want to take care of them."

Oswald blinked. "Come again?"

"If you'll let me," Ruby said, "I want to relocate each of them. At least, all those willing to comply. I'll give them false documents, money, whatever they need. All they would have to do in return is get as far away from Gotham as possible." Every word was like a stone in Oswald's heart. Gone was the hope of gaining the respect of both the lawful and unlawful. Shattered was the daydream of chasing away the monsters and winning the people's hearts. Until Ruby spoke again. "And in the meantime, we can make fake bodies so everyone will think you killed them."

Oswald blinked again. Stared down at her. "Truly?"

"Truly." Ruby met his gaze. Held it. "I know you care about climbing up the ladder, and getting in favor with the law-abiding folk wouldn't be a bad start. Just please," she tightened her grip on his hands, "please let me do this. You wouldn't have to pay for a thing. I'd provide for them out of my own pocket. I'll sell my jewelry if I have to." The last one hurt, but it would be worth it.

Oswald's eyes widened with disbelief. "You would truly do that?"

Ruby nodded with complete conviction. Oswald watched her, trying to label his feelings. Here she was, disagreeing with him but still offering a compromise. Still putting his own wishes on a pedestal, but not completely sweeping away her own. In that moment, Oswald knew that he would do the same. Finally, he nodded. Ruby hugged him. He answered, so grateful that he could cry. Ruby buried her face in his shoulder. Her heart was heavy...but not as much as before. As for Oswald, he felt like he'd just drank a glass of cold water after being forced to lie under the summer sun for hours.

They stayed like that until the sky turned the purple of a week-old bruise, and the first stars began to punctuate the heavens. That was when it was time to strike. And they would.

Together.


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

That night, Gotham crashed into the hands of madness.

Ruby and Oswald watched it unfold piece by piece. As they prepared for nightfall, the TV kept them informed. Strange was staying for the time being, but a school bus had been seen leaving Arkham. Presumably, its passengers were not exactly uniform-wearing children. The police were swarming the asylum now.

The public was apparently not taking the news well. Thousands of cars, filled with hastily-packed bags and shivering families, had been crowding the bridges for hours. Those that were staying were either crowding Arkham alongside the police, ready to kill the source of their terror, or barricading themselves in their homes. For a brief moment, Ruby wondered what her own parents were doing right now. Then, she shook it off. They probably hadn't spared her a thought since their car rolled out of Arkham's parking lot; why should she? Seeking distraction, Ruby glanced back at her friend. The air froze in her lungs.

Oswald looked like death's advocate. Dressed in a shimmering, deep-blue suit, his movements were made as fluid as water. His cuffs' jewels were polished and his hair was immaculate. As an afterthought, he plucked a white rose from the table's vase, snipped the stem away, and placed the bloom into his breast pocket. He and Ruby shared a smiling glance. Finally, Oswald propped up his umbrella and struck a pose before the window. Outside, the full moon glared down at them like a blind eye. "There's nowhere to hide, Strange." He said menacingly.

Ruby said nothing. She had dressed in what she hoped was battle-gear. Thick pleather pants and a bulletproof vest pulled over a sweater. And, of course, diamond bracelets and a matching necklace. Tying her wild hair back with a bandanna, Ruby felt the knot in her stomach grow. The incoming events were rushing towards her, as large and unstoppable as a tornado. Its destruction was already spreading through the city like a cancer. But what would happen once this tornado collided with her world? This mansion, the crypt...and Oswald? What if the experiments got out of the bus and attacked them? What if Fish Mooney recognized her old umbrella boy and decided to settle the score? There were too many things that could go wrong with this plan. Too many things that could cause him harm.

Ruby inhaled deeply. Pressed her fingers against her temples. "Oz."

Oswald turned to her questioningly.

Ruby gave him what she hoped was a comforting smile. "You don't know what Strange cooked up in there. I do. So I won't blame you if you decide to sit this one out."

Icy-blue eyes widened, then narrowed in disgust. "Excuse me?"

"What if you get hurt?" Ruby asked. "Then, everything we've worked so hard for would fall apart. Is getting revenge on Strange really so important?"

"Yes!" Oswald bellowed so loudly that it made Ruby jolt. Behind the anger, though, she could hear the fear. The entitlement. "He took away everything that kept me alive! He turned me into a simpering fool! If it hadn't been for you, I-" He broke off, looking away. Breathed shakily. Ruby bit her lip. Slowly edged towards him as he tried to bottle it all up. Her hand found his and squeezed it. Oswald glanced up. His eyes were shinier than usual. Ruby tugged at his wrist and pulled him in a hug. He didn't hug back immediately. But he didn't pull away, either. Ruby rested her chin atop his spiky head. They stayed like that for a moment, snuggled in a cocoon of silence. Oswald closed his eyes. Suddenly tired. Ruby did the same, but for a different reason. Finally, she opened them again. Stray tears ran down her cheeks. "I understand." She spoke softly, as if to a child. "He put you through the most unspeakable torture, and turned you into something you're not." She looked at her hands. Watched the skin ripple across the bone like waves over sand. "Believe me when I say I know how you feel." Ruby gently pulled away, holding Oswald's shoulders. "But vengeance is not worth your life."

Oswald watched her, blinking quickly, and nodded. His expression was unreadable, yet soft. He reached out and traced her cheek. "Ruby," Oswald made her name sound like a melody, "Strange of all people is not going to take my life. Nor will his...things." Ruby secretly appreciated how he'd refrained from using a more offensive terms, in light of their earlier discussion. Oswald smiled a little. "If I could survive Maroni, the GCPD, Fish Mooney, and the river, what is a mental asylum?"

Ruby tried to shut out her doubts. Her fears. Oswald was sure that he could make it; and even if he was bluffing, he was going to dive in anyway. Yes, she wanted to protect him. But what if, just this once, he didn't _want_ her protection?

The maid sighed. Mirrored Oswald's smile. "Yeah, you're right. Once you've got Strange out of the way, you're going to make the world bow."

"As long as you are there with me." Oswald said somberly.

Ruby's heart skipped a beat. "Don't look so sad." She lightly punched his bicep, widening her smile. "I'm not leaving you."

Oswald blinked, then slowly grew a genuine smile.

There came a knock on the door. Oswald cursed under his breath and reluctantly stepped away, wiping the corners of his eyes. Ruby watched him with a mixture of emotions. At the ready. Butch poked his head out. Oswald snapped, "What?"

"Sorry, boss." Butch apologized, "but we got a lock on the bus filled with Arkham's circus freaks. They crashed."

Oswald and Ruby shared a glance. The former turned back to his minion. "Go on."

Butch did. "We don't know if Strange is there, but we know the bald guy is."

Ruby went rigid. "Clayface?" Butch nodded. Ruby clenched her teeth so hard that her jaw ached. Her words, mixing with Basil's, rang in her mind's ear.

 _"My Master said...I'm perfect...the way I am."_

 _"Then he had low standards."_

"And to think, I spared his life." Ruby cracked her knuckled. Stomped through the door, pushing past Butch. "He'll wish I hadn't." Oswald watched her march out. Simultaneously impressed and worried. Putting on a porcelain mask over his sentiments, he straightened. "Saddle up, Butch." He, too, pushed past his lackey. "We've got an old friend to catch."

Butch, now having been shoved aside twice, was left with nothing to do but salute his boss with his metal hand.

* * *

It happened under Gotham Bridge.

The river was just a few feet away, reeking of decomposition and rubbish. The grains crunched beneath united feet. Even though sirens and yells were audible everywhere else, this place was as quiet as the grave. The very air seemed to be still, as if in anticipation. Steam rose from the object of interest. The yellow school bus, caked with grime, was toppled over a crushed police car. Butch led the group of men, each one carrying a gun as heavy as a child and nowhere near as innocent. The safety was off...on all of them.

Ruby glanced about, seeing no one. In her pockets, her hands had developed long, cat-like claws. She gave a grim nod. "Everything's fine so far. Let's get closer to the bus."

Butch glared at her. "Who died and made you queen?"

In response, Ruby kicked him in the shin. He doubled over with a yelp. His lackeys chuckled, albeit nervously. Ruby marched towards the bus. The lights on its were still glowing neon-red. Ominous. Was it empty? Ruby hoped so but thought not. Butch wouldn't have fed Oswald a red herring unless he had a death wish. Ruby edged closer to the bus and felt her heart sink. She could already hear movement from inside. It chilled her to the bone.

Oswald appeared beside her. "Professor Strange!" He yelled. When this bore no fruits, he yelled again. Getting dangerously close to the bus. Ruby was his shadow. "Come out!" He banged his cane against one of the windows. Up close, Ruby saw that the bus's sides were riddled with bullet holes. A jab of concern filled her. Oswald either didn't notice or didn't care. "Strange! We need to talk. You did a very bad thing to me."

Butch gasped. "My God."

Ruby heard soft footsteps. Right behind them. She spun around. Waiting for her was none other than Fish Mooney. Dressed in pale blue and shiny bronze. Staring at her with those mismatched eyes, the former crime boss looked half like a goddess and half like a demon. Ruby positioned herself directly between her and Oswald. Fish's expression was distant...but not wicked. "How sweet." She commented.

Oswald froze. Slowly turned around. Ruby reached out behind her and grasped his arms. When Oswald's eyes landed on Fish, his face lost what little color it had. His breaths came out in jagged tufts. "Impossible." He barely got out. Fish reached out, past Ruby, and rested a hand on Oswald's cheek. Her fingers glowed. Their luminescence spread across Oswald's cheek. "Nothing," Fish whispered, "is impossible." Oswald's eyes rolled back in their sockets. His knees buckled. Ruby reached out and grabbed him just as they gave way. She went down with him, cradling his head. "Oz?" She began patting his cheek, trying to wake him up. "Oz?!" She shook him. "Please, no!" She glared up at Fish. "What did you do to him?!"

"I know you." Fish commented in a dreamy voice. "You were the one who visited me, aren't you?"

Ruby froze.

"You wore a different face," Fish said, "but I've seen too many things to be fooled by such things now. I believe one of us has a bone to pick with you." She glided back towards the school bus. She seized the back door's handle. With a grunt she tore it off its hinges. Backed away. Throughout it all, she never looked away from Ruby. "Oh, Basil." She called out sweetly. "You've got a visitor."

A hand shot out and grasped the gaping hole's rim. Ruby hugged an unconscious Oswald tighter to her. A familiar face emerged from the bus's belly, pale and hairless. When he saw her, his uncertain expression melted into dark joy. "Well. Back for a rematch, runt?"

Ruby gently placed Oswald on the ground. As an afterthought, she removed her vest and stuffed it under his head. With one last worried look, she stepped towards him. From the corner of her eye, she saw Butch and the others fleeing. Typical. Ruby's hands tightened into fists. "Last time I checked, I beat you. How's the new eye?"

Basil twitched. "Not bad." He climbed out of the bus. Others followed his example. Ruby sucked in a breath at what she saw. A man with scaly skin and claws. A woman with a muzzle. A red-eyed albino. A guy with bat wings fluttering behind him. They all climbed out, looking at this new world with the kind of innocent curiosity that was usually reserved for infants.

Just like that, Ruby knew that she couldn't harm them.

But Basil was a different case.

With a roar she broke into a run. Basil did the same. The other experiments lingered, watching with confusion and excitement. Basil tackled Ruby to the ground, his arm coiled around her throat. His other hand grabbed her scalp. "Stay still," he said, "so I can snap your fucking neck."

"Ooh," Ruby mocked viciously, "yeah, I'm definitely gonna stay put." She closed her eyes. Her body melted beneath Basil's fingertips. He watched as Ruby puddled under him. Shocked. Then, a dozen hands sprung up at him. In seconds, he was sixty feet above the ground. Basil fought and bit like a wildcat before turning into a bird. Flew out of their tenting fingers and landed a few feet away. Human. Ruby reformed. She growled at him. "I planned to offer the experiments relocation and safety." She informed him coldly. "But in your case? Not so much!" Ruby broke into a run. Straight towards him.

Basil stood at the ready, fists raised.

A few of the other subjects began to hustle towards the scene. Ready to intervene. But Fish stilled them with a raised hand. She watched.

Basil's hands turned into rifles. A rainfall of booms heralded their onslaught of hardened blood bullets. Ruby ducked her head and covered it with her arms. Her skin thickened until it looked like, well, clay. The bullets hit the sticky surface and remained there, like flies on honey. Ruby leapt and swung a kick at Basil. He avoided it and threw punches, aiming for all the vital points. Ruby grabbed him by the outstretched arms. Her arms bulged like balloons. With ease she tossed him in the air. He landed nimbly on his feet.

The two stood like that for a moment. Sizing each other up. Then, Basil's feet turned to melting clay. This propelled him forward at a blinding speed. At the last second he jumped and regained his legs. Using them to kick Ruby. She hit one of the bridge's base walls with a groan. Breathing heavily, Ruby rubbed the back of her head. When she retracted her hand, it was sticky and smelt of copper. Flinching, she glanced back at Oswald. Still out for the count. Still unnoticed. Good.

Ruby bloated like a beach ball. She rolled towards Basil at the speed of light. In a second she was pinning his face against one of the bus's windows. "Look at yourself!" She yelled. "Is this really what you want to be?"

Basil stared at his reflection with wide eyes. Then, they narrowed. In a second it was Ruby being slammed against glass. Cracks spread across the surface. "Aw, look at the second generation! Acting all high and mighty!"

As the two Clayfaces struggled, one of the experiments glanced about. Wide-eyed about this new, yet familiar world. He - the guy with the bat wings - took notice of the fallen man. Raised his eyebrows.

Ruby and Basil melted at the same time, wrestling in their semi-solid forms. Everyone watched, spellbinded, as their bodies formed a single, throbbing unity of clay. Every now and then two figures would emerge, fighting with blood-lust, before sinking beneath the surface again. At last, in a flash of bright light, the two broke apart. Solid. Angry. Ruby was panting and nursing a series of cuts on her chest. Basil was wincing as one of his eyes grew swollen. "Give...up!" He yelled. "You...can't...beat me!"

"I did!" Ruby snarled. "And I'll do it again!" She got ready to attack again when a voice rang out. "Hey! Croc! I got a snack for you!"

Ruby twisted around in panic. The guy with the bat wings was raising a still-unconscious Oswald by his hair. The lizard-like man licked his chops when he saw him. "Put him down." Fish said coldly. Croc either didn't hear her or was too hungry to listen.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Ruby burst forth in a flurry of clay. Bits landed on the experiments' feet, rooting them to the spot. The winged man groaned as he struggled to free himself. He dropped Oswald, his interest in him forgotten. With his face on the ground, Oswald stirred. Ruby tried to reach him, but a chunk of clay landed on her legs, fusing them together. The gravel reached out to give her a kiss. She lay there for just a second, too stunned to move. Then, she looked down at herself. Clay was bound tightly around her legs, from the knees to the ankles. Swearing, she began tearing at it. A yelp stilled her hand.

She turned towards the sound. She screamed.

Basil was holding Oswald's head between two gorilla-sized hands. Grinning wickedly at her. Oswald, still dazed, reached into his pocket and revealed a revolver. He emptied the rounds in Basil's face. It turned to reddish-white goo, only to reform around the hot lead. Oswald stared up at him in horror and hopelessness. That was when he saw reality. He wouldn't make it. He couldn't. His only weapon had proved useless, and he was still too woozy and weak to fight on his own. Plus, this beast had him at a dreadful disadvantage.

Oswald had come here for revenge and had died in attempt. Ruby had been right.

Ruby.

Slowly, he turned to face her. She was still struggling to get the clay off her, but her desperate eyes never left him. Oswald gave a tiny smile. "Thank you, Ruby. You did your best." He said gently. "Thank you for being my friend."

Ruby stopped. The truth dawned on her. Oswald had anticipated her failure. He'd expected that, sooner or later, Ruby would not be able to protect him. And he'd accepted it.

But Ruby?

"NOOOOO!" Ruby shrieked.

The next few seconds were all a blur. Yet they would remain imprinted on the memories of all those present. Especially the participants.

Basil got ready to crush Oswald's head.

Ruby got rid of the last pieces of clay.

She jumped directly into Oswald.

The impact knocked them out of Basil's grip.

There was a flash.

Then, where there had been two figures...was only one.

Fish gasped, hands covering her mouth. All of the experiments watched with dropped jaws and wide eyes. Standing in a small cleft was someone entirely new, yet familiar. It stood taller than Oswald, yet shorter than Ruby.

Its clothes were a mixture of the two: it had Ruby's sweater and pants, but Oswald's jacket and tie. Ruby's jewelry remained intact. The bandanna had been torn off. A wild, curly mane the color of night rippled around its face like a halo. The skin was pale, like Oswald's, but had a hint of Ruby's peach tone. Its lower body was Ruby's, with healthy thighs and strong legs, with no limp. But the upper part was Oswald's: flat and hunch-shouldered, with long-fingered hands.

The face was also an amalgam: it was round and weak-chinned like Ruby's, but the beak-like nose and thin lips could only belong to Oswald.

The figure slowly opened its eyes. One was icy-blue. The other was indigo. They widened. It gasped, looking down at itself. "Wh...what?" The voice was neither masculine nor feminine; it danced somewhere in between. "What...what is _this?_ "

Basil stood aside, his eyes the size of dumplings.

He knew what was going on here. He'd heard Strange talking about it with the orderlies when they'd believed that Basil was zonked out. Strange had mentioned Clayface Point Two, and how her defective DNA had brought forth a new ability when combined with the formula. It was the ability to be absorbed into another's body, mix her own genes with her host's, and thus unite her strength...and mind...with another's.

Basil couldn't do it. And he was glad.

"Time to put an end to this embaressment!" Basil began to step forward, turning his hands into knives. A hand grasped his bicep. He winced as he stopped. Turned to meet Fish's harsh gaze. "That. Is. _Enough_." She growled. The experiments turned to her in recognition of her tone. It was the tone of a queen displeased at a subject.

The figure turned to her blankly. Its icy-blue eye widened. Fish nodded at it. Curious. Proud. "Let's go." She told her followers. With one last look at the figure, they followed her into the shadows. Some watched the figure with disgust. Others, admiration. Soon, they were gone, and the figure was alone.

Blinking, it looked down at itself again. Tenting its fingers. Gyrating its ankles. It felt so strange...yet familiar.

It spoke. "Is...this...?"

But it was too much for either of them.

There came another flash. The figure split in two. The pieces fell backwards, reclaiming their forms. Ruby and Oswald looked down at their solidified forms, too shocked to speak. Oswald stared at his hands, shivering, while Ruby rubbed her eyes.

The world down here was silent. Small waves crashed against the grimy shore. The bus continued to emit steam. Above their heads, chaos ensued.

But they were alive. Both of them. Ruby realized this with a grin. When she looked up at Oswald, however, that brief joy was shattered. He was staring at her as though he had never seen her before. He looked...scared. Of _her_.

Ruby looked away. Closed her eyes. Deep beneath her sweater, her heart cracked.


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

The return home was among the most awful that Ruby could remember.

Oswald refused to speak to her. Told her in an icy voice that they would discuss this 'issue' later. In the meantime, he didn't look at her. Just sat in the back of the limousine, his face a stern porcelain mask. Ruby drove, feeling cold despite her coat. She knew that keeping her eyes on the road was essential. But she kept glancing at the rearview mirror. At that stiff, furious face. And her heart would sink a little deeper.

Ruby fought back tears. The gravity of the situation settled in her bones.

He knew.

Someone outside of Arkham knew her secret.

And, coincedentally, it was the person that she cared about most.

Ruby closed her eyes for just a second. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel.

Oswald was right to be angry. He was scared, too. She could see flickers of it in his steely gaze, which he directed solely at the window. Either way, he was right. Ruby hadn't been honest with him, had kept things from him, while still claiming to be his friend. _Yearning_ to be. He had trusted her, and she had betrayed that trust. Not only that, but she had shown the worst part of herself. Her salvation and damnation, rolled into one.

And what it had caused for the both of them.

Ruby shivered once again. This time, it wasn't entirely out of cold or hurt.

What she and Oswald had experienced...she had never imagined it possible. Ruby had known that, technically, she could do it. Professor Strange had added a few extra...ingredients to the traditional formula before he'd injected her with it. According to his theory, Ruby's body may have rejected the mixture as all the others had, no matter how much her body degenerated. If that happened, she could still have some way of staying alive, albeit in a symbiotic way. She would be able to turn her body into clay of the thinnest kind, the consistency of colored water, and force her way into the skin pores of a host. Her DNA would then mix with her host's, and so would her mind.

Ruby swallowed.

She had never imagined that she might be able to access this ability; not when she'd never used it. Indeed, she had not intended to use it. Ruby's only thought had been to protect Oswald, and her body had acted accordingly.

And this was the price that she had to pay.

A tear rolled down Ruby's cheek. Little did she know that, in that exact moment, Oswald had shed a tear as well.

* * *

Ten minutes passed.

Twenty.

Twenty-five.

The scenery changed. Tall, rotting buildings fell away like wet plaster. In their place, trees and shrubs reigned supreme. Gotham's throngs, mostly junkies and thieves at this late hour, vanished like nightmares at dawn. Free of the orange streetlamps, the stars began to wink into existence. Expensive mansions rolled by on either side. From the brief glimpses in the windows, Ruby saw that their inhabitants were either preparing to retire for the night or sitting in bed, reading.

Ruby wondered what those people's lives were like. Sure, they were rich. They could never have afforded to live in this area if they weren't. But were they happy? Unhappy? Did they seize the moment? Cherish the ones they loved? What were their lives like?

She already knew hers would never be the same.

Van Dahl Manor rose from the mist, blocking out the starlight. Its familiar shape comforted Ruby. But at the same time, it felt wrong to be here. To taint this lovely place with the pain and loss that were about to unfold. Then again, the mansion had stored away countless secrets over the decades. This one would just be another to add to the pile. And by the time she and Oswald had left this world, their secret would be forgotten. Until then, Ruby knew that it would never be cast aside. It would always be there from now on. Dried blood from a wound that she had caused.

The limousine glided through the yawning gates. As always, the motion-triggered lights hidden among the flora brightened like a baby's eyes. The gardens became a swarm of color and darkness. Ruby felt her heart twitch as she looked over the shrubs of wild roses lining the path. A couple of weeks ago, she and Oswald had been unable to agree as to what color the roses should be. Ruby had wanted white, but Oswald had wanted red. In the end, she had planted both. But not before luring Oswald outside and throwing a ball of mud at him. The two had trudged back in the house an hour later, dripping mud and laughing like children.

As the car slowed to a halt, Ruby wondered when they would laugh together again. If they would.

The second the car stopped, Oswald bolted out. Slammed the door behind him. Hard. Ruby winced at the sound. Killing the engine with a twist of her wrist, she extracted the keys and ran after him. "Oswald!" He ignored her, marching to the front door. With robotic precision he unearthed his own keys and opened the door. He dived into the house's dark belly. Ruby raced in after him, closing the door against the night's damp chill. She flipped a switch once inside. The entire ground floor escaped the shadows. Except for the one in Oswald's heart. He headed straight for the kitchen. Not once did he look back at her. He grabbed the first bottle of wine that entered his range. Discarding the fancy notion of a glass, he uncorked the bottle and brought it to his pale, shaking lips. Ruby watched with discomfort as he downed half the bottle in just a couple of desperate gulps. When he finished, Oswald slammed the bottle down on the counter. Ruby was genuinely shocked that the impact didn't break it.

The two stood there for a few minutes. Ruby didn't speak. Didn't dare to. Oswald had his back to her, panting. His pallid hands were planted on the counter. Head bowed. From behind, he looked so young. A scared, hurt little boy. Indeed, he was just that in this moment: hurt. More than anything, Ruby wanted to comfort him. Take the pain away, somehow. But she knew that he would never welcome her aid now. Maybe not ever again.

Finally, Oswald spoke. His tone was flat and...dead. "You are one of them."

Ruby didn't answer. Couldn't. Her mouth felt like small animals had made a nest of it.

"You are a previous generation, I assume." Oswald continued in that monotone voice. "But you are one of them all the same. That explains many things. How you were able to reach Arkham that night without my knowing, for instance. Or how you fought off Galavan." A humorless chuckle. "And here I thought I had simply imagined it. And my injuries..." A trembling hand reached out to touch his shoulder. Kneading the flesh like raw dough. "A cream, you said? Ha."

Ruby couldn't take it anymore. "I was going to tell you."

"When?!" Oswald spun around so quickly that Ruby stepped back. His eyes were shiny and pink. "When I was old and toothless? When we'd captured Strange, and he had recognized you? _When_ , bloody hell? **_When?!_** " His voice grew louder with every word. He screamed the last word.

" _I don't know!_ " Ruby screamed back. Tears flowed down her cheeks. Oswald blinked at her. Still angry, but willing to listen. Ruby wiped her cheeks, but it was useless. More just kept falling. "I...I have no excuse, Oz. I know that." She sniffed. "But I did want to tell you. I just didn't know when." Ruby hugged herself. "I actually wanted to tell you some time ago. But then, all this shit with Strange started. And..." She squeezed her eyes shut. "And these other experiments. You called them 'monsters', and..."

"And you believed that I would place you in that same category." Oswald shook his head. Simultaneously disgusted and understanding.

Ruby let out a shaky sigh. "In the beginning...I just saw it as a little secret, you know?" She wiped her eyes. "Then, it felt like...if I didn't hide it..." She inhaled. "...You wouldn't want to be my friend anymore."

Oswald's jaw tightened. "Do you have so little faith in me?"

Ruby opened her mouth to answer, but he cut her off. "Well, it seems that you are not the person I thought you were. In all senses of the phrases."

That cracking sound in Ruby's ears? That was her heart splitting in two. "Oz, please-"

"You will call me Master Cobblepot from now on." Oswald's voice was like marble: hard and cold. It chilled Ruby to the bone. He stepped closer to her. His eyes were like chips of bluish ice. "From this day, until your last day, you are my weapon. Nothing more."

Ruby felt like the floor had been pulled out from under her. She reached out to grab Oswald's sleeve, but he was too quick for her. He stomped his way out of the kitchen, the wine bottle still at hand. His cane scraped at the floorboards. Ruby listened to the angry sounds fade, like thunder in the distance. The moment she could no longer hear them, she could hear herself. The screams going on in her head.

Ruby dropped to her knees. Covered her face with her hands. Broke into hysterical sobs.

* * *

"I trusted you." Oswald growled to himself. He slammed his bedroom door shut behind him. Locked it. "I opened up and let you in. I gave you an elevated position, and I brought you to the hospital that night during Galavan's attack. I gave you everything, and what do I get?! _Betrayal!_ " He threw the wine bottle at the wall. It exploded against the plaster. Glass shards clinked as they crashed upon the floor. Wine spread like blood across the wood. An ugly smear was dark upon the wall's pale tone. Oswald threw himself on the bed, burying his face in the pillow. Screamed into it. "Why, Ruby?! Why?! Why did you have to be one of them?! Why did you..." He broke down. "Why did you lie to me?" His anger drained away, revealing what was truly underneath. Sorrow.

Oswald Cobblepot spent the rest of the night crying his heart out, even when his tear ducts shriveled up and no more water escaped his eyes. In his mind's eye he saw his mother, semi-transparent, sitting beside him and gently stroking his hair. Somehow, even that fantasy didn't make him feel any better.

* * *

Morning came after an endless night of tears and regret. It was dark and gloomy, with silvery clouds swollen with promised rain. Mist shrouded the land like a white shawl. Ruby watched it from the attic's window. She was sitting on the windowsill, wearing one of the Master's old robes. Today, her hair was oddly straight and spikey. It fell into her eyes as she looked down at the jewelry box in her hands, she felt...out of time. Like everything had stopped, and all that had occurred - or would occur - had ceased to exist. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

She had done her duties at the crack of dawn, as always. She had done the laundry. Swept the floors. Waxed the tables. And, finally, prepared breakfast for Oswald. Then, she'd retreated to the safety of her room. Hopefully, he would not ask more of her today.

Ruby sighed. Looked down at the box. In itself, it was nothing special. Just a shoe box that Madame Bitch, Grace, had ordered her to throw away years ago. One of its corners was soggy and the cardboard was worn. But the contents shone brilliantly in the dim light. With the exception of her red stone ring, which she was currently wearing, everything was in there. Her earrings. Black onyx. Peridot. Emerald. Her namesake. Her bracelets. Carnelian. Jasper. Amethyst. Her necklaces. Diamond. Holly blue agate. Sapphire. Her name's sake.

The only beauty left in her life. But without Oswald, the gems meant little to her. Just bolts of glass.

The front gate squealed. Ruby turned back to the window, pushing some blonde-brown-gray curls out of her eyes. Butch was treading along the path, looking tired but in a fine enough mood. He was munching on a chicken sandwich, too. Figures. Who eats chicken in the morning?

"That's one cute, clucking, formally living chicken sandwich." Ruby tried talking like a waitress. "Would you like a side of dead pig's meat with that?" Butch just kept walking, chowing away. Ruby scoffed. Retreated from the window. From the world.

* * *

Butch felt like this morning just kept getting better. When he'd woken up, there had been no new moths on his curtains. Then, he'd gotten ready in time to get a breakfast bun. The bus had even arrived on schedule for once! He'd finally reached the mansion in record time.

And now, he entered to find the maid bitch to be nowhere in sight. Wow. Had that old rabbit's foot sitting in his drawer finally begun to work? If so, Butch was tempted to start killing the hopping rodents so this luck never ended. He could just imagine what the maid bitch would say about that. Probably something about those poor runts not doing anything to deserve death. Boo-fucking-hoo.

With no one in sight, Butch chomped down the last of his sandwich and tossed the greasy paper in the bin. Then, as an afterthought, he grabbed a mug and filled it with fresh-brewed coffee. Not doubting for a second who'd made it. At the first sip, Butch sighed. "Okay." He licked his lips. "You're a massive bitch, but you can make a hell of a cup of joe." Still sipping, he eyed his surroundings. Boss had said eight o'clock on the button. That was within five minutes. He could do some looking. Butch admired the cherry-wood cupboards, the marble counters and the gleaming floors. He whistled at the amount of gear in the kitchen. A coffee-brewer, microwave, blender, and electric whisk all occupied the same space. A quick glance in the cupboards revealed enough food to feed an army for years. And the fridge was the biggest and most expensive one on the market, of course.

And it was home to a couple of photos. Smirking, Butch gave them a closer look.

There were only three, the type taken with a Polaroid. Probably the bitch's. If the Boss ever got into photography, Butch knew he'd get the priciest one on the market. The first showed the Boss fast asleep on the couch, with an open H.P Lovecraft novel sitting on his lap. The second showed Boss trying a black velvet suit that had probably cost as much as Butch's car, back when he'd still had one. Boss looked..different, and not just because of the outfit. His expression was open and happy. He didn't just look different; he looked like a different version of himself. Like an Oswald Cobblepot from a diverse universe. The third included the bitch. The two of them were just smirking at the camera, like they knew something that the viewer did not. Butch saw that Boss had a hand on the bitch's shoulder. The act was so simple, yet so intimate, that Butch would never have believed it if it hadn't been photographed.

Someone cleared his throat. Butch spun around and fought back a yelp. Boss was dressed in black velvet today, down to the scarf and gloves. Strangely enough, he was wearing jewelry, too: a black diamond brooch shaped like petunia, nestled on his breast. But one look at his face erased any mockery that could have formed. Boss was staring at him with a coldness that would even make Eskimos shiver. His pale face was gaunt, and dark circles around his eyes spoke of a sleepless night. But his eyes were like cut diamonds. Butch swallowed. "If you are done," Boss hissed, "I have business to attend to. And you will serve as my driver today."

"Me?" Butch asked indignantly. "What about your frizzy-haired bitch?"

"Miss Sinclair will not be joining us. I imagine this will go on for a while." Boss narrowed his eyes stepped closer. Examined Butch as though he were a unique vase he was considering to buy. "But someday soon, I expect you and Miss Sinclair to work together." He chuckled darkly. "So close, in fact, you very well may become a single being."

Butch stared at his employer as though he'd just ordered him to eat his own feet. But he simply nodded. Deciding that whatever would be, would be. So long as he got paid and respected, he didn't much care.

"Good." Oswald nodded. "Now, I wish to go to Arkham Asylum-aaaagh!" Oswald staggered backwards, clutching his head with both hands. "Boss!" Butch grabbed his employer, but the latter jerked himself free. Wailing, he held onto his head like he feared it would fly off his shoulders. "Boss, what's the matter?!" Butch screamed, panic rising like a bird in his throat. Oswald didn't hear him. Didn't see him. He was no longer of this world.

 _He was tied to a wheelchair. His ankles and wrists were bound to the cold metal, freezing his skin. He fought and struggled like a wildcat to get free, to no avail. All around him people were talking, prodding, poking at him, as he was pushed forward. Inside. Within darkness and danger. Away from light and beauty. A world that did not belong to him...her._

 _Looking down, Oswald saw that it was not his body he was seeing. It was hideously deformed. The skin was coarse and bloated, like a rotting fruit's. Sores wept pus everywhere, staining the clean hospital gown a sickly yellow. Patches of purple and green and yellow, like bruises, were sewn into the fish-belly-white flesh, like a tapestry of horrors. Stringy hair, a mixture of brown and blonde and gray, tickled down to the elbows. Orderlies surrounded her, their faces filled with blatant disgust._

 _"Stop struggling, dear."_

 _Oswald...whomever it was...looked up. Professor Strange stepped forward. He was almost a decade younger and a trifle plumper. But it was still him. The wickedness still danced in his eyes. He smiled down at whomever it was. "You mustn't wear yourself down, Miss Sinclair. Your muscles aren't used to so much work, and may rip if you force them. But don't worry," he reached out and cupped the person's chin, "from this day forward, you're going to feel much better." His smile widened, as though he knew something that he didn't intend sharing. "Welcome to Arkham Asylum, Miss Sinclair."_

Oswald gasped for breath. The dream...no, the memory...dissolved before his eyes. The real world returned, embracing him warmly. Butch was holding him by the triceps, keeping his legs from giving way. Oswald kept panting, realizing that he was sweating bullets. "Boss?" Butch stared at him with genuine concern. "You okay? You totally spaced out."

Oswald kept panting. "She..." He managed to say. "She was so scared." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shake off the phantom emotions. "Take me there." He croaked, struggling to gain control. "Please."


	27. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Ruby spent the day alone. Completely, and utterly, alone.

She tried to harvest her time into productive chores. First, she polished the mansion's floors. It took three hours and enough elbow grease to fill a cabinet's worth of jars. But in the end, the floorboards gleamed in the slanted golden rays. But still there was no one, and Ruby still felt empty. That was why she moved on to the windows. Hanging upside down like a spider, Ruby proceeded to wash every window of the house. She counted, them, too; forty-seven. That took another hour and a half. Finally, she transferred her attention to the kitchen. An hour later, it was perfumed with her best recipe: orange and walnut bread. She placed it in the pantry, wondering if Oswald would eat it tonight.

She'd have no way of knowing until tomorrow morning.

A knot formed in her throat. Tears brimmed in her eyes. Ruby slapped herself. _I will not cry!_ She chanted in her mind. _I will not cry!_

That was when inspiration struck. She was alone, with a ton of free time, and covered in sweat and grime. There was only one logical course of action to take. Ruby ran up the steps.

Fifteen minutes later she eased herself in the bath's hot, soapy waters. Sighing, she rested her head on the porcelain. Oh, yes. This was the ticket. She could feel her tired muscles softening, her bones popping with every movement. Heaven. To further spoil herself, Ruby had also lined the tub with scented candles and lowered the window's shades. The tiny flickers of flame flickered in the dimness, casting shadows on the walls. Ruby watched them, hypnotised, as she cleaned herself. In the way of the ancient Romans, she took a dull razor, pressed it horizontally against her arm, and gently dragged it up. All the sweat and filth came away like dust on furniture, leaving a stripe of clean flesh. Ruby elongated her arm so that it hovered over the rubbish bin halfway across the room. Wiggling her wrist, she let the biologic debris plop into the bin. And onward it went. Ruby covered everything: arms, legs, back, and abdomen. She grew clean, and the water felt even warmer.

Oswald would have loved this.

Ruby sighed, this time with sorrow. She dropped the dull razor. It clacked on the porcelain tiles. She covered her face with her hands.

Why couldn't she keep him out of her thoughts, if only for a little while? Why was he always there, like a ghost in her head?

Well, in truth Ruby knew why. But she had no intention of saying it out loud. Especially now, when such a feeling meant nothing.

When he hated her.

Ruby covered her ears, but it was no use. She was hearing all of this in her head. That was why she needed a distraction. Fast.

Her dripping arm reached out again. Pressed a button on the radio. A very old-fashioned song crawled out of the speakers. The moment it reached Ruby's ears, her eyes rolled back. She collapsed backwards, hitting the tub's rim. Everything around her changed except for the bath and the music. But no. She was changing, too.

 _In a moment she was back in the bath water, but not the same. It was cloudy with soap, and she was playfully squirting it with a fist. But it wasn't her fist. The hand was pale and bony, the nails tinted yellow. Deep into the water, his left leg ached. She...he...began splashing about softly, restrained but still childish. The music still played. But this was not the same bathroom. Faded gold curtains kept the sights of the city at bay. Golden carvings and pictures of flowers hung on the walls. Old-fashioned lamps glowed wanely from their perches on the drawer and table. A mirror hung on her...his...left. Ruby glanced at it and nearly gasped._

 _It was **Oswald** in the tub. He looked a pinch younger, and his hair was spikier and longer. But it was him._

 _A door opened and closed. "Your suit is ready." A female voice crooned, heavily accented with German. Glancing up revealed a plump woman with long, frizzy blonde hair. Holding one of Oswald's suits, pressed and ironed. She wore a gown whose color hovered between pink and beige, with a frilly collar. Her face was wrinkled but very gentle, very loving. Her eyes were icy-blue, her lips thin. Ruby swallowed when she realized who she was looking at. "I steamed it nice." The woman added._

 _"Thanks, Mom." Oswald said, his tone calm but clearly pleased._

 _Chuckling, his mother hung up the suit. Knelt down with a sponge in her hand. "I'm vorried for you." She began to rub it against Oswald's bony shoulder, slowly and lovingly. "You're so anxious, you look." She squeezed the water out of the sponge. Ruby, still seeing her through Oswald's eyes but incapable of doing anything else, felt something akin to concern bubble within her. Should Mother be told? No, better not. With a start Ruby finally grasped that these weren't her emotions, either._

 _"These moves you make...they are safe, yes?" Mother asked gently, still washing Oswald. "You're not doing anything illegal?"_

 _"No, Mom." Oswald shook his head firmly. "Don't worry. It's just business." Up close, Ruby could smell his mother. She smelled of raspberries, incence, and cream. Lovely._

Ruby climbed out of the memory just as quickly as she had fallen into it. She lay there, panting and trying to get over...whatever the hell that had been. It was a memory, of that much she was certain. She had recalled it, felt it, as though it were one of hers. But of course it wasn't. None of her memories included a loving mother. Only her fantasies did.

"Oswald," she whispered, hugging herself, "why did I see something of yours?" Just then, Ruby realized something. She had just seen Oswald's mother. The woman who had loved and cared for Oswald all of his life. The dearly loved parent who had died in his arms. Whose light he had watched extinguish. Ruby squeezed her eyes shut. Tears plopped like silver coins into the water. In the quiet, their echoes were as deep as the sea. "Oz," she said softly, "I'm so sorry."

* * *

 _"I'm so sorry."_

"Ruby?" Oswald glanced around in alarm. From the driver's seat, Butch eyed him with a mixture of concern and trepidation. "You okay, Boss?" Oswald turned back to his lackey, surprise written all over his pointy features. To Butch, this was something of a breakthrough. Up until this moment, his facial expression had been stony, in all senses of the word. But now, he just looked...almost scared. Just like he'd felt when Boss had told him the bitch's dirty little secret.

"You did not hear it?" Oswald asked, stupefied.

"Hear what?" Butch asked. "If you're talkin' about the asylum gates, hard not to. Those things scream louder than torture victims."

"I..." Oswald looked like he wanted to say something, then shook his head. "Never mind. It's of little consequence." He straightened in posture. Expression fell like a veil from his face. His eyes fell over the windows, and the world beyond them. A world of insanity and secrecy, of treachery and corruption. Where he had suffered endlessly, and where someone else was enduring the same fate. "It all is. Except for this."

* * *

Edward Nygma had always considered himself intelligent. Matilda Wormwood ain't got nothing on him. In kindergarten, he was the only kid who knew how to recite the alphabet. Backwards. In Latin. By the time he was seven, he was reading high school textbooks. By fourteen, he passed exams and tests while barely opening a text. Edward managed to conclude college in two years, saving his parents an infinite amount of money. Which his father drank away anyway. Oh, well.

Even Edward's time in the police had been enjoyable to some extent. Sure, he'd never been popular there. But then again, he'd never been popular anywhere. But he'd liked being able to crack puzzles and solve riddles, regardless of whose life was saved and whose death received justice. He'd liked to think that people were as easy to figure out.

But he'd been wrong in that regard. Jim Gordon had been smarter than Edward had anticipated. The consequence of that mistake towered all around him. Made him shiver at night. Hid him from the world.

Well, most of the world. Except for the man sitting across from him.

Edward eyed Oswald Cobblepot with hidden marvel. It had only taken a glance to convince him that, whatever they'd done to him here, he'd undone it. His hair was spiked again, looking sharp enough to prick fingers. He wore expensive velvet and a tangy cologne that Edward could smell from across the metal table. And his eyes were bright with the wickedness that Edward had so favored before.

Guilt was a metal cape hanging from Edward's shoulders. Dragging him down.

The two men sat in somewhat uncomfortable silence for a while. Oswald looked at ease, but Edward hadn't felt this bad in a while. Not only did he feel guilty, but filthy. He was all too aware of his vinegary body odor, the result of three days without bathing. That was how long he had to wait each week. Every three days. And to make matters worse, everyone used the same bathwater.

Yet here Oswald was. A beacon of light in a forest of darkness.

He smiled. "Hello, old friend. How are you?"

Edward blinked from behind his grimy glasses.

Oswald didn't seem to mind the lack of response. He filled in the silence as confidently as a bird filling the air with song. "Things have been going well, for the most part. I am the sole owner of an enormous fortune, I met my father, and got rid of the abominable woman he'd taken to his bed. And I made a friend." He paused. For the first time, a sliver of doubt came over him. It entered his face. His voice. He glanced away. "Or at least, I thought I had. Until I learned that she'd been keeping something from me."

"She?" Edward quirked a brow. Oswald waved his hand. "Ah. I recognize that tone, dear friend. Do not even consider it. She is simply a servant girl. Far below your league."

Edward chortled softly. "I have a league? That's news."

The weak attempt at humor gave Oswald reason to smile a little. But the gloom remained. "She has been playing the roles of both servant and bodyguard for nearly a year now. We had also become friends." His smile widened at the memory. "She showed me a cave near the mansion's grounds. A former amethyst mine, imagine! She told me she often went there to think and relax. I suppose it is a geologist's idea of a treehouse."

"She's a geologist?" Edward asked with genuine interest. "My aunt's a geologist, too." A small pause. "She sold this amazing ruby necklace once, to help pay the bills once. The money lasted us for months."

Oswald made a weird hiccuping noise. "That's her name."

Edward frowned. "What, Month?"

Oswald rolled his eyes playfully. "Ruby. Ruby Sinclair." Good Lord. Even saying her name hurt.

"A fair name." Edward sighed. "At times, I still find myself speaking Kristen's name. When I do, I feel less alone."

Oswald's jaw set. He leaned forward. Grabbed Edward's stare and held onto it. "You are not alone, Ed. Not anymore."

Edward frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Oswald rose, "that from now on, you will have a friend in me. I'm sorry for not contacting you sooner. But I had far too many business callings to take care of first."

Edward nodded. He didn't blame Oswald. If he'd been in Oswald's shoes, he wouldn't have come here at all. Not to visit the man who'd shut the door in his face. He, too, rose. The guard that had been standing by the door shifted. He closed the distance between himself and Edward. Clamped a meaty hand on his shoulder. "C'mon, Nygma. Visit's over."

"I will return." Oswald promised him. Edward nodded. He did it to please Oswald more than anything else.

* * *

Ruby stood before the grave, just as she had so many months ago. So much had changed since then. Most evidently were her feelings towards the person beneath her feet. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to steady her breathing. A bag filled with fallen leaves sat at her feet, and a glass vase filled with lillies was placed before the tombstone. An offering. A pale shadow of lost joys and beauties.

"All this time, and I never fully realized." She inhaled wetly. Pushed her hair out of her eyes. "You meant the world to him, Miss Kapleput. He loved you with all his heart. More than I've ever seen a child love his mother." She sniffled. "When I lost my Master, it felt like I'd lost a part of myself, too. He'd been everything to me. He had given me a home. He'd put clothes on my back and food in my belly. He did more for me than my family ever did. But now I see that what I felt wasn't a fractiom compared to Oswald. He was devoted to you. Please, know that." She wiped her eyes even more. "I know that because...today..." She paused, unable to get the words out. Finally, she did. Prying. Yanking. Bleeding. "Because, today...I can feel his love for you as if it were my own."

The tomb, of course, didn't answer. The dead are beyond such things. Ruby wept quietly to herself beneath the sweatshirt's hood.

It had cleared up since this morning. The sun had broken through the fog, and the cool dampness was making way for gentle springtime heat. Birds twittered sweetly, and many trees were bursting with peach, pear, and apple blossoms. Like scented little clouds on sticks. All of this beauty pained Ruby because Miss Kapleput could no longer witness it.

So caught up in her grieving, she was, that she did not hear the two women coming.

"What's up, Sinclair?" Barbara appeared from behind her like a spectre. Ruby flinched but didn't look up. She swallowed. Beneath her hood, her face changed. Her cheeks and nose lost their recent redness, and her eyes dried. She dared a look at her two visitors. Barbara and Tabitha were both fabulous, of course. Barbara wore a crop-top aligned with rhinestones, and tight leather pants. Her heels looked like toothpicks attached to her feet's soles. But her hair was swept up in a golden waterfall over her shoulder, and her makeup was perfect. Tabitha was fiercer: dressed in tight black leather, and her long onyx hair tied back in a ponytail, she was the very picture of quiet fearsomeness.

And they were both looking at her like they knew something.

Clearing her throat, Ruby knelt down and collected the bag of leaves. "Work."

Barbara sniggered. "That's it?" She chuckled. "From what I heard, you can do a lot more with your hands than scrub toilets and peel potatoes."

Ruby felt her heart leap up. Lodge itself in her throat. "What're you talking about?" She could barely get the words out.

Tabitha smirked. It was an ugly sight. "Butch just let us in on your little secret." She made a tsk-tsk sound. "With the power to change your appearance, I'd think you'd at least fix your hair."

Ruby felt that she would faint. Right there. Maybe she'd fall forward and bash her skull against Miss Kapleput's tombstone. That would be merciful compared to this.

She wanted to demand how Butch had known. But in her gut she knew. And it made her want to scream, cry, and laugh bitterly.

Swallowing hard, she tried something that she knew would never work. "Barbara, I don't know what you mean."

Tabitha scoffed. "Oh my God, right."

Ruby winced. Barbara smirked at her, placing a cool hand on her shoulder. "Don't be ashamed. I think it's awesome you can turn yourself into Play-Doh." Tabitha snorted with laughter. Ruby tore herself free from Barbara's grasp. She stomped away, head bowed. "You're going to be sorry someday." She whimpered. Trying to reach the car as soon as possible.

Barbara put on a mocking sad face. "Oh, boo hoo. I'm sorry you're a crime against nature." She turned to Tabitha with a grin. "I'm sure she had fun." In that moment her face brightened. Tabitha quirked a brow. "I know that look. Do tell."

"I wonder how much Oswald's rivals would pay for this little tidbit." She smirked. "All we need is some pictures, and bam! Instant classic."

Tabitha's mind whirled like a well-oiled machine. "If they don't try to buy her..."

"...they'll try to bump her off. Just like the rest of Strange's circus. And who knows how Ozzy will manage without his freakish wonder to watch his back." Barbara chuckled. Whipped out her phone. "Thank God I keep tabs on all of 'em, just in case." Her manicured fingers began flying across the buttons.

Tabitha grinned. "You are such an evil beeatch. Love it."

"Love you, too." Barbara blew her a kiss and hit 'send'.


	28. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Some people say, "Walk around the right corner in Gotham City, and you'll find just about anything." This was true. Tabitha had learned that within her first week in this miserable pile of bricks. All you had to do was whisper in the right ears, and slip dollars into the right hands. She knew how to do both. Which was why, as the sky darkened, she had found prey suitable for both her and Barbara. People who, unlike the rest, actually believed what Barbara's text had implied. And were interested.

Though, admittedly, they weren't exactly the next super-criminals. It was just the Vortex Gang, one of the few packs that the Penguin hadn't even bothered to contact. They were no more than a dozen, and limited themselves to robbery and guns-for-hire. Their symbol, a spiral, was either found sewn on their clothing or inked into their flesh. Ugh.

But hey, better than nothing.

Barbara and Tabitha kept exchanging looks as they sat on one end of the filthy table. On the other end, of course, was the Head Spiral, if you will. A big, thuggish fellow with more muscles than he had teeth. When he smiled, Tabitha could only count two, and they were both black with rot. Damn, eating must have been an ordeal. He probably had a name. But Tabitha wasn't interested enough to remember it.

The lair wasn't that impressive, either. It was just an abandoned clinic, it seemed, by the amount of faded posters and white-tiled walls. Oh, and wheelchairs. As the Sirens sat with the head honcho, his goons were racing around in them the same way kids would in go-karts. The scene was so campy, Tabitha suspected, even for Joel Schumacher. Bare bulbs hanging from the cracked ceiling provided light. The amount of filth and dust on everything spoke of decades of neglect. The only proof that the place was inhabited at all was the copious amount of flags hanging around, all of them sporting the gang's spiral.

Barbara cleared her throat. "Lovely place you got here."

"Thanks!" The boss grinned, completely missing the sarcasm in her tone. His nearly toothless smile was both goofy and disturbing. Like a bearded, wrinkling infant. "It's not the Plaza, I'll grant you, but it's home. Now, what's this I heard about a freakazoid workin' for the Penguin?"

Tabitha scoffed. "Freakazoid. Haven't heard _that_ one in a while."

Barbara got right to business. "She's just a maid, really. Nothing special...except for this, obviously. Apparently, she's not from the batch we've got running around the city. No, she's an older generation. And she can shapeshift."

The boss raised a bushy eyebrow. Beneath those thick caterpillars, his eyes flickered with a humble intelligence. "Oh?" He leaned forward. Locked his sausage-sized fingers together. "Well, that's mighty interestin'. Ya got any proof?"

This wiped the smile from Barbara's red-painted lips. She actually looked stunned. Tabitha felt a twitch of concern. "Proof?" Barbara repeated carefully.

"Yeah." The boss nodded. "How do I know you ain't pullin' my leg? Now, if ya had some video footage, or, better yet, her, then I'd be willin' to consider your proposition. But without anythin' like that?" He sucked in air between his two clenched teeth. "Yeah, no dice, dollface. Sorry." He rose. His brutes took it as a cue to stop playing and rose with him. For the first time, Tabitha noticed that they were all armed. Well, that wasn't an issue. She was, too. Hell, she'd even hidden a shuriken in her bra, just to be prepared. But the boss lifted a hand the size of an oven mitt, and they visibly relaxed. "Sorry, ladies." He said. "But with no proof, I can't give ya nothin'." He chuckled. "'Sides, I'm not sure I'd want a circus reject like that near my men. Sounds like a time bomb, ya know?"

Barbara rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. I've seen newborn rabbits act more viciously than her."

"Still." The boss shrugged. "Why wake the sleepin' dog?"

* * *

The day was dying. Oswald was watching.

He sat in one of his favorite armchairs, a glass of pinot noir in his hand and a pile of scribbled papers at his feet. His fountain pen, which Ruby had bought him as a gift a couple of months ago, lay respectfully in its case. Icy-blue eyes examined the world between the red velvet drapes. The horizon was crimson tonight, as though the heavens were bleeding out, with passing clouds that pulsed like beating hearts. The land was growing blacker by the minute, barely pierced by the waking lights. It was a sunset worthy of the apocalypse.

Oswald sighed. Leaned back in the armchair. Let the blinding red lumiscence bathe him. He remained like that for a while. The only noise came from the fireplace. An ideal weapon against the approaching chill.

Why? He kept asking himself. Why had he told Butch about Ruby?

The first reason that came was the simplest, and most shallow: because he was mad at her, and, at the time, had believed that she'd deserved it. She'd kept such a vital piece of information about herself hidden. So, it would no longer be hidden so easily. Butch would know, especially because it would serve Oswald's plan.

That was the second reason.

What Ruby had done to Oswald... _with_ him...for even just a few minutes...had been mind-blowing. It had been unlike anything he'd ever experienced, be it awake or dreaming. It had felt as though everything about himself, both physical and mental, had turned to paint. Mixed with the paint that had once been Ruby Sinclair, and together, they had created something...someone...entirely new. It hadn't even felt like he had been sharing his body with her, or his mind. He hadn't felt like one of two people. Oswald had felt like a single, new being. And his old name may as well have belonged to a limb.

Imagine if Ruby could do that again. This time, not with him, but with Butch. With Ruby's quick wit and the man's immense strength, they could bring down foes better than any knife or bullet.

And the third? Well...he'd needed advice. Advice on what to do. How to fix things. And why the problem had been born in the first place. Butch hadn't been able to offer anything of substance, though, which had convinced Oswald of his errorous thinking. He'd proceeded to threaten Butch with a lashing if a single word of the matter ever left the car. It was a threat he'd gladly act upon. That deliciously effective whip hadn't been used in a while, and he was beginning to miss the power that came with it.

And this afternoon...and this morning...what had he heard? Seen? Was it just his mind playing tricks on him? The ugly result of too much stress in too small a window of time? Oswald had no idea, but the life infused within those illusions had been terrifying.

He finished his glass in three greedy gulps. Then, he quickly refilled it. As an afterthought, he recalled a small wine-tasting evening between him and Ruby about a fortnight ago. They had just finished killing a traitor and he'd been in a better mood than usual. That was why, after Ruby had finished wrapping up the corpse in Grace's clothing and setting it aflame, Oswald had raided the basement's stash. The two of them had spent the next three hours tasting different vintages, rating them, and sharing secrets with each downed glass. Ruby had even prepared snacks of bread, cheese, and fruit to help their bodies cope with the alcohol. By the third stroke of midnight, the two of them had fallen asleep on the Persian carpet, side by side, each clutching their favorite wine. Oswald's was Chateau Lafite. Ruby's was Moscato d'Asti.

Tears filled Oswald's eyes. He swiped them away with an angry paw. He couldn't allow himself to get carried away. After all, there was still the matter of Fish Mooney to settle. Why she hadn't killed him that night, when the oppurtunity had been gift-wrapped for her. Had it been due to Ruby's intervention? Had their...union moved Fish beyond her murderous nature? No, it didn't seem right. In his time as Fish's umbrella boy (the memory still made him want to curl into a ball and weep), he'd seen her beat men and women alike until they lost consciousness. Then what was it? Had she been so repulsed by this unnatural fusion that she'd been unable to react?

Well, whatever the reason, Fish was out there. And he would find her. Dead, alive, or chopped into pieces.

Just beneath his feet there came a deafening crash. Oswald leapt up. A lightning bolt of agony shot up his leg. "Aagh!" Oswald cried out. His hand flew to his side, where a dagger lay hidden. Then, as the sound faded, he felt like slapping himself. It had just been the front door. Being slammed open very, very hard. Still, he tightened his hold on the blade.

"OSWALD CHESTERFIELD COBBLEPOT!"

Oswald stopped. He knew that voice. His hand fell from the dagger. But he couldn't deny that he was more than a little scared of Ruby's alien wrath.

A bubbling noise emerged from the floorboards. Oswald slowly looked down, horrified, to see a multicolored goop pushing its way up like magma. It was multicolored: black, peach, dark blue, and crystal. Oswald stumbled backwards, crashing back into the armchair. The sludge slowly began to rise, like the contents of a lava lamp, with each particle building on top of another. A shape began to take hold. A feminine one. Details broke out. A blurry image coming into focus. And that image was of Ruby's red, tearstained face. Glaring daggers at him.

Oswald felt a stab in his chest when he saw her face, but his own was as impassive as a frozen lake. "Miss Sinclair," he started, "why on earth-"

"HOW COULD YOU!" Ruby screamed at him. Her hands were clenching and unclenching at her sides. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND!"

"Stop yelling, for God's sake!" Oswald screamed back. Then he stopped. Squinted at her. "What are you wailing about?"

"Oh, gee, nothing important!" Ruby answered viciously. "Except, you know, my secret is officially front-page news!"

"What?!" Oswald felt like someone had punched him in the gut.

"You told someone!" Ruby cried. Tears were running freely down her face. "And that person told someone else! I bet it was Butch. 'Cause today at the cemetary, Tabitha and Barbara made it more than clear that they know."

Oswald felt himself growing angrier by the second. He thought back on himself informing Butch of Ruby's...condition. How foolish he'd been, to think that Butch would hold his silence. All threats are meaningless in the face of love. He groaned. Rested his head in his palm. "I swear, I never meant for things to go this way."

Ruby stopped. She was still crying. Her tears hit the floorboards with a steady, drum-like rhythm. Her glassy eyes were locked on his, and saw the truth. They hardened. "I believe you." She spun on her heel and stomped towards the doorway. Oswald hastily got up, wincing at the pain. "Where are you going?"

"Away from you!"

"I forbid it!" Oswald yelled, slamming his cane against the floor. "Not until we've finished our discussion!"

"Oh, that's right!" Ruby turned back to him. "I'm just a servant! A mutant servant, but one all the same. So I've got to ask your permission if I can leave, enter, or even breathe!"

"Ruby-"

"Well," Ruby sneered, "then, if you'll excuse me, _Master_..." She spat the word out with a poisonous hatred. Then, she slammed the door shut. Oswald cursed and stumbled across the room, cane clacking with every step. He glanced down at it as he treaded. Swearing that next time he got into an arguement, he'd grab it before the weapon. Lest stumble around like a newborn giraffe.

He reached the door just in time to hear the symphony of sorrow. Oswald stopped. He listened. Oozing from the other side of that mahogony surface was the most heartbroken sound that he'd ever heard. It was swollen with anguish and betrayal, entirely hopeless and beyond consolation. Oswald listened, unable to turn away, as his own heart broke beneath his fine clothes. He dropped to his knees. The impact sent his bad knee into hysterics, as though he'd stapped it to an angry wasps' nest. But Oswald didn't care. Just kept listening, as tears slid down his own cheeks.

* * *

The meeting was to place a fortnight later. Oswald contacted the Sirens each night, trying to anticipate the union, to no avail. They were always 'busy'. He would have strung both of them up by their hair, but Butch adored Tabitha. Killing her, or simply maiming her, would have put Butch's loyalty at risk. Oswald couldn't have that; not until he found someone better.

Ruby spent those two weeks having as little to do with Oswald as possible. She prepared his meals, washed and ironed his clothes, and kept the house in mint condition. But the minute her chores were completed, or she heard his mismatched footsteps approaching, Ruby reduced herself into a pudding and hid under the furniture. She knew that he wanted to talk. Wanted to apologize. As if her increased salary and extra free hours weren't indicatory enough. But Ruby wasn't having any of that. He had taken her trust and pinned it to his coat as if it were a cheap brooch. It would take more than cash and free time to repair what he'd carelessly broken.

Besides, she didn't have time to socialize these days.

Ruby wiped the sweat from her forehead. After the disasterous escape of the creatures, Arkham had endured a brief window of inactivity. People, both officials and locals, had avoided the area as though it were cursed. Which wasn't too far off the mark. Ruby had seized the chance and stolen every modern file that she could get her hands on. Then, she'd poured over each one as though it were a Harry Potter book. She'd studied each subject's name. Condition. Revival. And she'd used the facts to track them down and offer them a one-way ticket to freedom.

Most of them had accepted. But there were others who wouldn't leave this damned city.

Ruby rested her forehead upon the papers. Wishing she could change the words as easily as she could her own appearance. She stayed like that for a moment. Contemplating. Dreading.

Fish Mooney. She was the reason other creatures wouldn't leave. She had convinced them to join her on whatever crazy crusade she was embarking on. And they had accepted! That was the absurd part!

Or maybe it wasn't. Ruby drummed her fingers against the cherrywood. Thought back on her days as an inmate. Mostly, she couldn't envision images, exactly; just sensations. Terror. Self-loathing. And humiliation. Daily. If someone had offered her a reason to live, any at all, Ruby would have accepted. No point denying that. When people are scared and hurt, when they're thrown in the dark, they'll follow anyone who offers a solution. It was human nature.

After all, she'd followed Master. She would have followed him to the grave, if he had asked her to.

Ruby closed her eyes. But that didn't stop the tears from falling. She hugged herself, trying not to weep. And failing. Ruby dropped her head. "Master." She whispered. "I miss you so much..." Tears pattered gently upon the documents, making the ink bleed.

The phone shrieked. Ruby jumped two feet out of her stool. She spun around, looking about with teary eyes, and groaned. "Of course, the fucking phone." She muttered. Ruby rose from her seat and reached out. Her arm stretched out five feet across the room, the hand detaching the phone from its cradle. "Hold on!" She snapped. Reached her destination. "Hold on, hello?" She held the phone to her ear.

"Ruby?" That honeyed voice could not be forgotten. No matter how much one may wish it.

Ruby sighed. "Yes, Miss Kean?"

"Oh, thanks for answering!" Barbara sounded like they were best friends reconnecting after years of silence. "I just totally need your help!"

Ruby blinked. " _My_ help? Are you sure you don't want Penguin?"

"Positive." Barbara's grin was audible as it was poisonous. "You see, I'm having a business problem, and only someone with your... _skills_ can pack the wallop I need."

Ruby sensed that Barbara had gone through a dictionary's worth of terms before settling on 'skills'. "No, sorry." She said. "I work for Penguin, not for you." She was about to hang up when Barbara yelled, "Wait!"

Ruby did. She would never know why. She would spend the next week or so contemplating why she had waited. But the answer would never come. If only she had known...

Ruby held up the phone. "I'm listening. But not for long."

"Oh, good!" Barbara sounded relieved. "Because, really, it's about these Russian dudes."

Ruby frowned. "What Russian dudes?"

"The ones who own this part of town." Barbara explained. "They've been poking around here lately, and Tabitha just can't keep 'em away anymore. Could you maybe kill a few, just to discourage the others from showing up anymore?"

Ruby blinked. Frowned. "What's the catch?"

"No catch!" Barbara sounded stunned. "I was just hoping, since Oswald's my ally, he'd be willing to lend me his tool every now and then."

 _Honey, if you want a tool, just look in the mirror._ But of course Ruby couldn't say that. Instead, she swallowed down this spoonful of wormwood and spoke in a civil tone. "Fine. But in exchange, I expect...a ten percent increase in the fees you pay Penguin in exchange for his protection. Sound fair?"

"Very fair." Barbara assured her. "You're soft in your negotiations, sweetie. Well, you know the address. See you in half an hour!" _Click!_


	29. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Barbara put the phone down, a smirk on her lips. Her red-painted nails drummed against the desk. Specifically, on the receipt for a two-hundred-dollar videocamera. "This is gonna be sweet." She stated.

"Or sour." Tabitha leaned against the wall. Her arms crossed defensively. "Remind me again what all the smoke and mirrors are about?"

"Uh, hello?" Barbara smirked. "We can't very well ask Sinclair for a demonstration. She'd just get suspicious. But if she's suddenly attacked?" She chuckled. "The girl won't know any better."

Tabitha sighed. "Easy for you to say that. I'm gonna be the one punching the shit outta her." She tucked a few loose strands back into her tight ponytail. "You know I hate to sweat."

"Just keep it up until she uses her 'powers'." Barbara made air-quotes with the last word. "If the gangs think that she's easy to put down, then they won't want to form an alliance with us. They'll just grab their own damn shotguns."

Tabitha rolled her eyes. "They're welcome to. I'll gladly dance on that cunt's grave." Barbara didn't say anything. She knew how hard Tabitha had taken her brother's death. He had been a monster who had stabbed her, but he had still been her brother. And Ruby had been part of the team who'd brought him down. True, Penguin had been the real mastermind, and Butch had brought the bazooka. But Ruby had something of higher value: Penguin's affection.

Barbara's hand landed on Tabitha's slender shoulder. Gentle. Loving. "Let it out, babes." She encouraged her. "Let all the rage out."

The gloom lifted, if only a bit, from Tabitha's face. "Believe me. I will."

In that moment, there came a knock on the door. Both women spun around, wide-eyed with shock. There was a minute or so of silence. Then, a familiar voice called out, "Miss Kean?"

The Sirens shared a smirk. Barbara held out a carnival mask out to her friend. "Show-time." Tabitha snatched it. Tied the delicate ribbons against her skull. "I'll get the cloak."

On the floor below, Ruby thumped her head against the door. Great. So shouting through the keyhole wasn't going to work. But maybe this would. Inhaling sharply, she looked around. Seeing no one, Ruby closed her eyes and focused on the keyhole. Her entire body broke apart, reduced to a sand-like substance. It flowed and rippled through the keyhole, splashing gently against the floor. As it did, the form stabilized. In a matter of seconds, Ruby was standing in the desolate lobby, brushing herself off.

That was when a wiggling switchblade appeared at her feet. Ruby jumped. Stared at the weapon. How close it had been. Her head snapped up, eyes blazing. "Who's there?!" She called. When there was no answer, she growled. The rational part of her head told her to run the hell away. But the other, smaller part protested. Claimed that whomever had attacked ought to be put in their place.

Ruby's eyes narrowed. She peered at the floors, looking around with wide, attentive eyes. From the shadows, Barbara aimed the camera and pressed 'record'. Right in time for a masked figure to leap out. The tip of a knife pointed at Ruby's shoulderblades. The swish of the cape gave her away. Ruby spun around. Reached out. The figure's head jerked back in shock. But it was too late to retreat; gravity had claimed her. Ruby seized the figure by the throat. As easily as one might close one's fist around an ant.

Indigo eyes were like steel. The hand brought a struggling Tabitha closer. Ruby squinted at the mask. "Hey, weirdo." She mocked. "Halloween's over."

"Hi, pot." The voice was modified. Robotic. "I'm the kettle." Everything flashed by. Tabitha reached into her cloak. Whipped out a blade. Jammed it in the hand holding her captive. Ruby's scream rocketed across the walls like a rubber ball. She loosened her grip. Tabitha, sensing it, kicked Ruby in the jaw. The impact sent her flying. Ruby stumbled back, wheezing and cradling her hand. Blood seeped from it like ink from a broken pen. She grimaced.

"Does it hurt?" Tabitha cooed. She reached into her cloak. When she pulled out her hands again, there was a knife nestled between each finger. She tossed several of them in the air between her and Ruby. "Then, please enjoy it another forty-five times!" There was a flurry of singing silver and splitting flesh. Four knives made their way into Ruby's back. Then, another five.

 _Slash! Slash! Slash!_

Cloth and skin tore open. Grimacing, eyes rolling, Ruby attacked. Tried to land punches and kicks, but only recieved more gashes. Tabitha dodged her lashings with lightning speed. She cut whenever she could. When Tabitha knelt down, out of Ruby's reach, Barbara zoomed in on the knives. They were dripping red. Tabitha sprung forward. "Gotcha!"

Ruby's eyes widened.

Saw red. Then, white.

Tabitha twirled the blade around her fingers. Behind her, Ruby collapsed. The woman smirked behind her mask. Every drop of blood feeding her vengeance.

Barbara huffed. She'd been hoping for more action, if only to make the video more interesting to look at. But oh, well.

Tabitha brushed herself off. "I ain't scared of no freak." She chuckled. Barbara rolled her eyes, already editing that lame reference out in her mind.

That was when the squishing noises emerged, like mud flowing from a pipe. Tabitha and Barbara both turned with surprised eyes. A large, rippling mass of clay was rising. Forming. Solidifying. Into a very healed, very angry Ruby Sinclair. " _You should be._ " She lurched.

Tabitha extracted her gun. Shots shattered the air like glass. Punched holes in walls. Broke windows. But never touched Ruby, who split herself in two as she ran towards her. Barbara grimaced and zoomed in with horrified fascination. Ruby was literally split down the middle, with her divided organs and bones jiggling with every movement. Somehow, they were able to move; and quickly, too. Without a second's hesitation the two halves rejoined, grabbed Tabitha by the cape, and spun her in the air like a lasso. Threw her against the wall. Barbara gasped. Zoomed in on Ruby. A bullet nailed her in the arm, careening her backwards.

Smirking beneath her mask, ignoring the pain, Tabitha shot at her again. Ruby glared at her. Dissolved into nothing.

Tabitha froze, looking around in fear.

Ruby materialized behind her. Grabbed her by the neck and squeezed. Barbara gasped. Ruby squeezed tighter. And tighter. Her eyes were like orbs of glass. She could kill Tabitha, or not. No biggie.

A wheezing Tabitha reached into her cloak. Introduced her whip to Ruby's throat. Ruby only smiled darkly. Let go of Tabitha. She sank beneath the floorboards, the whip still circling her neck. Tabitha was pulled down. On her knees. A hand shot out from between the boards. Grabbed her by the mask. Whammed her head against the floor once. Twice. Then, a sucker-punch sent Tabitha sliding against the floor. Tiny strands of clay rose from the cracks and gaps. Intertwining as effortlessly as threads in a tapestry. In a moment, probably less, Ruby was crouching before Tabitha's fallen form. She smirked. "I hope you've learned your lesson." She reached out for the mask again.

A gunshot resounded. A hole appeared in Ruby's arm. Ruby shrieked like a banshee. Clutched her bleeding limb close. Looking around wildly, she could see no one. Hissing, she dissolved into a torrent of dust. Flew out one of the gaping windows. Tabitha watched her go, gasping and wincing. She tore the mask from her face. Gulping in the stale air. Barbara snapped the camera's lid over the lense. "And...that's a wrap, honey!" She called down. "Just let me edit this thing, and woosh! Off to the Internet!"

* * *

Oswald wiped his blade clean, taking care to scrub at the clumps of congealing blood. Once he was sure that the knife was as clean as a cloth could get it, he gently placed it in a pot of warm, soapy water. That done, he cracked his neck. The bones popped in a very satisfying manner. He glanced at the body still strapped to the chair. "The next time you tell me who you are working for," he said softly, "I expect an answer before I cut your Achilles' tendon." The body didn't reply. Just sat there, gushing blood and staring off into space. Or perhaps whatever afterlife awaits us. Smirking, Oswald blew on the now-clean blade. Tucked it away. "Oh, well. I'm a forgiving man. I'll let bygones be bygones."

Oswald glanced at the wall, where various brass bells hung like bowed heads. He rang the one at the far end. Within minutes, he knew that the part-time help would show up and get rid of the body. They would never talk. Oswald knew it. Most of these servants were young adults in need of money. If he gave them enough to pay their bills, they would keep silent if he blew up Hawaii.

Speaking of blowing stuff up...

Oswald rang another bell. This time, the one in the center. Hopefully, his secretary wouldn't forget any papers this time.

As he waited, sipping at his wine, Oswald took a moment to appreciate the decor. This was one of the sitting rooms meant for little beyond leisure and relaxation. There was a well-polisheed record player positioned under one of the arched windows. When the sun hit the right angle, the golden horn caught fire. This room, which was eighty paces long and sixty paces wide, was themed in red. Oxblood wallpaper closed in on him, making him feel hidden and secure. The carpets varied from pale red to deep rose, making it look like a patchwork of drying blood. The furniture was framed in polished wood and lined in velvet. As with most of the mansion's rooms, it had high ceilings and countless artifacts of wealth. One of these was a huge piano sitting in the corner. He remembered Father playing it from time to time. Not often. But sometimes. Ruby had told him that, once upon a time, Father had played it every morning. He'd stopped when his mother died.

Not for the first time, Oswald wondered what his ancestors had been like. Of course, he'd known what jobs they had pursued, and what choices had led to the gigantic fortune now sitting in his bank account. No, what he really wanted to know was what they had been like. Had any of them travelled, seeing far better places than Gotham yet couldn't bring themselves to move? Had they led happy, eventful lives? Had they had likes and dislikes that coincided with his?

Well, he would never know.

Oswald glanced out the window. All he could see were meadows and trees, with a few other large villas in the distance. Beyond them, Gotham's filthy towers spread across the horizon like a black-gray smudge. He thought of Arkham Asylum hidden somewhere among those ruined buildings. And the inmate that had once been his friend.

Edward was still skeptical about Oswald's visit. Distant. Like he expected Oswald to simply grow bored and stop showing up. Even though Oswald had already shown up twice, and had been nothing but kind to him. Well, it was to be expected. The man had been bullied and mistreated his entire life. It was normal for him to be distrustful. Besides, Oswald himself hadn't been much better. He'd been out of Arkham for almost a year now, and he'd only just started contacting Ed. Sometimes, the thought that kept him awake at night was: why? Why hadn't he gotten back in touch with Ed sooner?

Oswald told himself that it was because the time had to be ripe for that sort of thing. He'd spent months brainwashed. Then, it had taken him twice as long to begin climbing back up the ladder of outlawed relevance. Gangs had taken a while to fear and respect him again. Even with their promised alliance, they had still stirred up trouble from time to time. And there were still groups that refused to accept reality. Oswald would deal with them, once again, when the time was ripe.

But if there's one person you can never completely deceive, it's yourself.

If Oswald glimpsed deep inside himself, he saw the real reason he'd started visiting Ed.

It was because he missed having a dear, close friend. And he and Ruby were not ready to forgive each other. Maybe they never would be.

In that moment, there came a timid knock. Oswald sighed. "Come in!"

A pair of students slid inside, looking down and scratching the backs of their necks. Ew. If they turned out to be carrying fleas, Oswald would have them disinfected from head to toe. They loitered at the doorway, silently waiting for instructions. Oswald drank his wine and pointed at the corpse. They nodded and got to work. Oswald turned away, sipping and thinking. But he didn't get the chance; someone knocked once more. "Excuse me, sir?"

Oswald spun around, exasperated. The red wine sloshed from his goblet. It trickled down his clenched hand and drummed against the crimson carpet. "Good Lord," he swore, "can't anyone enjoy a fine vintage without all this ruckus?"

Standing before him was the sectrary, Daisy or Dolly or Dana. He honestly couldn't remember. She was a plump woman who always wore ridiculous pastel dresses and even more ridiculous hairdos. That made Oswald want to keep her in the office, just for the entertainment. But right now, he was more interested in the sacks clutched in her dainty, blue-nailed hands. He reached out with one hand. Dipped the first two fingers back towards himself. "Gimme." He ordered simply.

Daisy/Dolly/Dana hurried forth on her four-inch heels. Handed over the sacks, each with a gang's logo sewn on the belly. Oswald peered inside. Inhaled deeply. "Aaah." He grinned. "There is no scent quite like that of debt." Setting down his chalice, he began leafing through the sacks. Trying to count the crisp notes by touch alone. "Have they been laundried properly?" He asked.

"Of course, sir." Daisy/Dolly/Dana nodded. Her beehive hairdo wobbled unsteadily. Oswald stared at it. God, she could hide a can of Pringles in that thing. She kept her eyes respectfully on the ground. "Every gang working for you has paid either on time or early." She held out the bags. "This is your forty-percent cut from drug sales, Internet fraud, and tax evasion."

Oswald didn't take them. "And that all amounts to how much?"

Daisy/Dolly/Dana stopped. Thought a moment. Then recited: "Three million, twenty-seven thousand, eight hundred, and fifty-two dollars in total. Which means-"

"Not a bad day." Oswald waved her off. Already turning back to his wine cabinet. "Leave a thousand. I might feel like going out this evening. But I want the rest brought to the bank and deposited in my account." He shot her a quick, snarky smile. "Thank you, chèrie."

Daisy/Dolly/Dana nodded rapidly. "Yes, of course, Mr. Cobblepot. I'm all over it. Consider it done." She quickly scuttled away. As she slinked past the yawning doors, an approaching Butch brushed past her. He was cradling his laptop with both hands and smirking.

Oswald arched a brow. Limped forward, his cane thumping with the rhythm of a beating heart. "What is it, Butch? Have you taken care of the runt who slashed my tires?"

"Yep." Butch grinned. "He got all the slashes he put on the tires...plus some."

Oswald nodded. "Very good." He straightened. "Anything else?"

"Well," Butch stifled a giggle, "have you seen the video Barbara posted?"

Oswald frowned. "No."

"Oh, you should!" Butch sniggered. "It's only been up for a couple of hours, and it's already got a thousand hits! 'Clay Freak Walks Among Us'!"

Something about that title made Oswald tremble. He did his best to feign indifference. "Why would I care about what Barbara does?"

"Because a) it has to do with Sinclay, or whatever the fuck her name is," Butch said, "and b) it's fucking hilarious!"

Oswald's jaw tightened. "Let me see."

Butch did. The fight only lasted six minutes and forty seconds, but it was enough to dig a trench in Oswald's gut. He bit his lip as he watched Ruby getting sliced, bleeding all over the place. His heart sank in deep mud when she collapsed. When she fought back, however, he felt an odd sense of pride. But her face was still very clear in the video, and in the description, her full name could be seen. When it finally finished, Oswald felt like his feet had turned to rubber. But he still put on a poker face as he looked at Butch. "Ruby is not violent," he stated calmly, "and you know it."

"Yeah?" Butch snorted. "Watch it again and tell me what she's like."

In one swoop Oswald swung his cane down. It collided with the laptop in an explosion of glass, plastic, and wood. Butch's beefy hands groped at the empty air. The cracked computer lay at his feet. Without blinking Oswald brought his cane down on it again. And again. And again. Until the top half broke off the bottom, the keyboard disassembled, and the screen was a hollow shell filled with broken glass.

Butch stared at his seven-hundred-dollar computer, hopelessly destroyed, before turning fearfully at Oswald. Icy-blues were like windows to the tundra. Butch swallowed. "Okay." He said. "I won't watch her video anymore. Or pass it on."

"Thank you."


	30. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Two days passed. In that short span of time, everything changed. Last of all for the video's star.

Ruby stood in an alleyway's mouth. She was dressed in a royal purple hoodie too sizes too large. Perfect for the five thousand dollars and map that she was hiding. Keeping herself out of sight, she examined the early morning marketplace. Located on the outskirts of the city, this place was a fine place to buy fresh, organic foodstuffs and second-hand gardening tools. Everything was in abundance, fresh, and cheap. Everybody knew it, especially servants.

Which was why she had picked this particular location for her meeting. If anyone besides a servant showed up, she would know. And everyone else would be so caught up in doing the groceries, ready to run back to their masters, that no one else would notice.

Ruby leaned against the wall. Drumming her fingers against the clammy bricks. She glanced at the clock and huffed. The sisters should have been here ten minutes ago. And they had no excuse: they could glide! Sighing, she decided to give them five more minutes. If they didn't want her help, fine.

Trying to fight the boredom, she eyed the market's activities. Everything was on sale, now that spring was upon them. Honey-melons were split open into star shapes, their seeds gleaming in their pale orange flesh. Cherries gleamed like polished rubies, paired off by strong dark stems. Grapes of both green and purple were draped across baskets' rims, dripping sweet juice. Dried herbs were crushed and poured into vials for customers to use, exhaling powder beneath the hammer. Every servant, evident by their tidy, yet humble attire, read off their lists obediently but occasionally bought a snack for themselves. The vendors had to argue with stingy buyers from time to time. But for the most part, their discussions were cordial.

Each stall was draped in weathered cloth, giving the market semblance to the kind one finds in Egypt or Jordan. But there was no harsh desert sun here. Thick, dark clouds drifted across the watery sky, accompanied by a lazy roll of thunder. Sometimes, the sun was visible through the haze. It was a steaming silver coin.

Three flea-sized spots whizzed past it.

Ruby snorted. "About time."

A moment later, three solid _thumps_ resounded behind her. Without turning around, she reached into her hoodie's generous pocket. "Well, nice to see you're both so dedicated to your freedom."

"Cut the shit." The eldest sister snapped. "Where's our money?"

Ruby rolled her eyes. Great. She had to pull _this_ shtick again. And her patience was already at its limit. Spinning around, Ruby got a look at the triplets. Separated only by a couple of hours each, apparently. Identical in every way, including attire, they looked like something out of Middle-Eastern folklore. They had fine caramel skin and dark hair, with form-fitting leather suits. Hmph. They'd probably taken fashion lessons from Tabitha. The elder one carried a broomstick with a knife taped to the end. The younger ones both weilded a dagger.

Ruby eyed them carefully, careful to keep her own expression blank. The younger sisters looked respectfully down. But the elder sister held her gaze, glowering.

"What was your name again?" Ruby asked. "Julie?"

The elder sister's jaw tightened. "Jubilee."

"Jubilee." Ruby echoed, smirking. "You look like an angry little boy. Don't presume to give me orders. I only allow my master to do that, and it's only because I respect him." She reached into her pocket and whipped out the cash. Waved it before her like a fan. At the sight of it, both pairs of eyed gleamed. Jubilee huffed and looked away, arms crossed. The second eldest sister - Janice, that was her name - inhaled. "Forgive my sister. What she lacks in diplomacy she makes-"

"Do shut up, dear." Ruby turned to the youngest sister. "Anything from you?" When the youngest sister just bit her lip, Ruby couldn't resist adding, "No? Good. Let the grown women speak." She turned to the two elder sisters. "Now. We've gone over this. Once you get on that bus, don't get off until it reaches the last stop. Then?"

"We walk five miles north." Janice recited. "Walk. Not fly."

"Walk, not fly." Ruby echoed approvingly. "And once you reach the farm, you...?"

"Say we know about his needing extra hands, and ask for a job." Jubilee muttered. Not looking at Ruby. "And we give false names."

Ruby nodded. "Very good. It's been a pleasure, ladies." She tossed the bag at them. The youngest sister caught it skillfully. With that, they swept past her. Ruby scoffed at the clouds of dust that they had left behind. "You're welcome." Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she shambled off into the market.

She'd already done all necessary chores before leaving, and she didn't want to stay in the mansion a moment longer than needed. The atmosphere was blacker than ever, and the regular killings Oswald orchestrated in the basement had nothing to do with it. The whole place just felt...cold. Frozen, even.

Funny, how a filthy city filled to the brim with crime could be preferable to one's own dwelling.

Ruby spent the next couple of hours wandering aimlessly about. Stopping for some cherries and a melon, she ate them on the park's little bridge. Tossed extra bits at the ducks. Then, after the pits and rinds hit the bottom of the barrel, she window-shopped at some jewelry stores. Beneath the hood, her eyes glimmered at the sight of emerald brooches, jade necklaces, and amethyst rings. Alas, her payday was still distant.

At some point, a guy pinned her to the wall demanding her wallet. Discreetly, she sprouted an extra limb on her back. It cleaved through the man like an arrow through paper. She left him with a fist-sized hole in his chest.

That was when boredom began to settle in, along with an afternoon drizzle.

That was when boredom began to settle in. There weren't that many places left to visit, anyway - not if you weren't in the mood for a bar brawl. So, off to the mansion she would go. But not before fetching some reading material.

That was when it happened.

Ruby glanced from one newspaper to another as she took cover beneath the stand's plastic roof. Each pile of papers was kept still with a rock, but the headlines screamed out at her. All about murder and mayhem. Typical of Gotham.

That was when one newspaper caught her eye. And sank her stomach.

Ruby snatched it, holding it close to her quickly-blanching face. The title read, 'Viral Video: Truth or Lie?' The pictures were blurred, but she recognized them anywhere. One of the figures in question had been her mysterious attacker. Next to the blurry shots was a very clear copy of her driver's license.

"Oh, no." She whispered. "Please, no." Ruby began to read the article, hoping for some reassurance but getting none.

 _Two days ago, a video was anonymously posted on YouTube, Vine, and all media that include videos. The links were also sent to various members of both legal and illegal dealings. It featured two figures in a very heated battle, with one displaying abnormal abilities not unlike the creatures let loose from Arkham. The police are still analyzing this footage, trying to determine its authenticity. Furthermore, the person behind this video's publication claims that the being in possession of these morphing powers is Ruby Sinclair, aged 26 years._

"This can't be happening." Ruby whispered. In her shock, she didn't even notice the wind blowing the hood away from her face.

"Hey!" The guy behind the stand suddenly glanced at her. Ruby's head snapped up. He was holding the same newspaper as she. "You're that clay freak!"

Ruby bolted. She could hear him yelling after her. A clamor of angered, frightened voices rose after him like an echo. Before she knew it, she felt feet trampling after her. Why? Her frenzied brain screamed. What did they want?

A gunshot resounded. In the same instant, a hole appeared in the side of Ruby's hoodie. She shrieked in fear.

"Get back here, freak!" Someone yelled.

 _Fat chance!_ Ruby's eyes caught sight of an alley. She dived towards it. Into the shadows. The crowd followed her, only to find the alley empty save for some howling cats.

They never suspected the look up, or listen for the sound of fluttering wings.

* * *

The dying sun dipped behind the dark purple clouds, extinguishing the sky. Stars slowly awoke from their slumber, blinking sleepily in a tainted-orange horizon. Sirens mixed with crickets. In Gotham's seedy belly, hundreds of blinking lights shifted about like beetles. Out here, that was not the case. It was quiet. Solemn.

Tense.

Oswald stood before the window, draped in a black and purple robe. His feet, sore from so many hours of walking, rested in a pair of cozy velvet slippers. He sipped at his wine, pondering nervously. Even as he tried to focus on the outside, the inside kept finding a way to snare his thoughts. Specifically, something on the inside. Just a few feet away from him, reflected in the glass.

Oswald glimpsed at Ruby. She was cuddled up in one of the plush, evergreen armchairs. Garbed in a pale pink nightgown and polka-dot socks, she kept her eyes on the television screen while her hands busily prepared PB&J sandwiches. Without looking away once, she brought the sandwiches to her jaws and chomped mechanically away. The black-and-white screen flickered across her glazed eyes.

Oswald turned on his heel. Collecting his cane, he hobbled towards her. She didn't look at him. No surprise there. When she'd gotten home late this afternoon, she had greeted him with a nod before heading to her room. Locking the door behind her. Ruby was doing the same thing now, pretending that he wasn't there. For a moment, Oswald felt a whiff of entitlement. He was the master, and she, the servant. She had to give him the respect that he deserved.

Then, he remembered whom he was thinking about.

Oswald eyed the screen that currently held all of Ruby's attention. It was a mute, black-and-white film. No shock there, either. Tonight was a Georges Méliès marathon. _Cinderella of the Glass Slipper_ was silently playing, with a small text at the screen's bottom heralding the next film, _The Knight of the Snows_.

Fairy tales. Ideals. Impossible to realize anywhere else but in fiction. Especially here in Gotham.

Oswald sighed. "I'd like to discuss this video with you."

"Well, I don't." Ruby's fingers trembled as she brushed the crumbs off her lap. "I just want to forget the world right now."

Oswald's paitence flittered like rice paper caught in the wind. "I'm afraid we don't always get what we want."

"I never got what I want." Ruby replied dully. She was still staring at the screen. Her voice was flat. But her eyes were glistening. And, for the first time, Oswald noticed that they were pink and puffy. "A loving family. A normal life. Friends. A job in geology." Ruby gulped. Then, shakily brought another sandwich to her lips. "But I guess it just wasn't in the cards for a freak like me."

"You had one of these things." Oswald tersely pointed out. "A friend."

"Had." Ruby noted with melancholy. A tear rolled down her cheek. In the television's glow, it shone like a moonbeam. Oswald fought the urge to catch it. Ruby swallowed. "Please. Tell me." For the first time, her head tilted towards him. "How can I make you forgive me?" Her tone was calm. But the desperation was just beneath the surface. Oswald's jaw tightened. "You can't. You lied to me. You need to learn that there are consequences to your actions."

Ruby's grip tightened on the sandwich. "I'm sorry. I really am. But it wasn't exactly the sort of thing you can bring up during the commercial break."

Oswald slammed his fist against the wall. Hot pain roped around his hand. "I _don't_ want to hear your excuses!" He hissed.

Ruby was shaking now, but she held her ground. Dropping the sandwich, she turned to face him. "But it's true. No matter how hard I try to pretend to be normal, I never will be. I never would have been normal, even if I'd never been left at Arkham." She gave a small, bitter laugh. "But in the condition I was, I wouldn't have reached my twentieth birthday. At least now I'm a _functional_ freak."

Oswald stared at her. Recognizing her words for the revelation that they were. A widening gap of the door behind which her secrets resided. He wanted more. "What are you talking about?"

Ruby hesitated. Opened her mouth to answer-

-when a vase beside them exploded. Ruby and Oswald both jumped. Oswald's swift eyes caught the bullet-sized hole in the wall. Another shot shattered a window pane. A third knocked over a paperweight. Then, a flurry of bullets marched across the wall. Peppering it with holes. Bleeding plaster. Straight for them.

Ruby tackled Oswald. They both hit the ground just as the wall above their heads rained plaster. They both coughed as gunshots echoed all around them, shaking the very air they breathed. Ruby clung to Oswald both out of fear and protectiveness. Oswald clung back.

Until at last, the metal rain ceased.

Ruby and Oswald lay there for a second, breathing heavily, before sharing a look. It was only then that Oswald noticed the position they were in. He was lying on his back, his cane just out of reach and his limbs spread out. Ruby was spread on top of him, her hands resting on his chest. Their faces were centimeters apart. Their hearts beating as loudly as drums. In sync.

That second only lasted for, well, a second. A sixthieth of a minute. Then, Oswald rose in a sitting position. Breaking the spell. Ruby handed him his cane. He took it, their fingers brushing. He got up, wincing at the pain this caused. Now standing, Oswald saw what was left of the front door. It looked like a giant, wooden cheesegrater. Growling, he began to march towards it before stopping. Turning back to Ruby. Offered the shadow of a smile. "Thank you."

Ruby nodded. Mirrored his expression.

Oswald spun back to face the door. Wrenched the door open. Practically all of his neighbors were gathered in the front yard, gossiping and eyeing the damage. A police car was already grinding to a halt, its red-and-blue lights flashing blindingly. Oswald sighed. Dropped his hands to his sides. "Great." He limped down the steps, where a policeman met him. "Hi, Mr. Penguin." He greeted. "Did a business meeting go wrong or something?"

"Not that I know of." Oswald replied. "All of my foes have distinguishing characteristics. This was-"

"What the fuck're you doing, Penguin?"

The dark-haired man turned to the third voice. It belonged to some jerkoff who worked for the Todd family just a few houses down. Jeffrey, his name was. His ugly face was lined with anger. Oswald stood on his tip-toes to appear taller. "Excuse me, cretin?"

Jeffrey jabbed a meaty finger at the house. "Why the fuck are you keeping a monster like Sinclair around?"

Oswald's temper flared. He inched closer. "Watch your tongue, or you shall lose it."

"She's a menace!" Jeffrey yelled in his face. "Just like all 'em Arkham monsters!"

"Yeah!" A few voices chorused. A single voice added, "She ain't one of us!"

"Lock her up!"

"Throw away the key!"

Oswald tried to speak out, but it was pointless. He may as well have tried yelling against the roar of ocean waves. Shaking his head, he turned back towards his mansion. "I've had enough of this madness. Clear out, all of you!" As he looked up, though, he froze.

Ruby was watching from behind one of the laced windows. Tears ran down her face. Then, she vanished. As though she'd never been there at all.


	31. Chapter 30

Chapter 30  
  
Morning light leaked across the sky like spilled milk. The thick clouds only brightened slightly. Pregnant with rain, they slowly crawled across the heavens, brushing across the cracked skyscrapers. The city woke up along with the sky. Some of the sneakier criminals hid away from the approaching day, ready to wait twelve hours before their next chance to strike. Other types, wearing confident faces and carrying heavy wallets, stepped out into the early morning.

Watery light winked through silken curtains. Two women tangled within each other slowly blinked their way back into reality. Smiled sleepily as memories of the previous night came flooding back.

"Mmmm." Shrugging off Tabitha's slender leg from around her waist, Barbara stretched like cat after a very satisfying nap. Her fine, golden hair shone like a halo in the pallid light. Adjusting her rumpled nightgown, she glanced back at her friend. Her inky hair was spilled all around her like a drape. Her feline features lost all of their hard determination in the hands of Morpheus. She looked younger. Peaceful. Vulnerable. Barbara bent down and kissed Tabitha's smooth, warm forehead. The woman smiled in her sleep and shifted a bit. Barbara rose. The cold tiles froze her bare feet. She ignored them. Headed for the kitchen.

Solemnly, she prepared a fresh pot of coffee and toasted bagels for both of them. Summoned a variety of jams and butters from the fridge. As she set the table, the phone glared meaningfully at her. She smirked at it.

The plan had worked. Perfectly. Just as she had predicted, people had gone batshit over the Sinclair video. No one had even questioned its authenticity, outside of those dumbasses in the GCPD. After everything that had been going on recently, the citizens' disbelief had melted away like spring snow. In the wake of Arkham's exposure and the unleashed monsters, no one had doubted that everything in the footage had been real.

Especially the few gangs that weren't bowing to the Penguin.

Between sips of coffee, Barbara went over the previous night. Smiling over its sheer perfection. How all of the crooks that had laughed them out of the building before had contacted them. Asking simply when and where they intended to strike. Tabitha had been forced to take over because Barbara had been too busy squealing and jumping up and down with excitement.

True, they weren't doing anything right now. But the important thing was that these groups were now on Barbara's chessboard. And when the best opportunity presented itself, she would move them.

* * *

Early morning demanded a lot from Oswald. Especially when such a scandal was thrust upon him.

First, he had to personally visit many of his allies. Because of the news, they had decided that someone who employed monsters was no one worth working with. They saw it as a betrayal, as well as an outstanding feat of hypocrisy. That was why, over the course of a single morning, they had done everything from refusing to pay their debts to destroying properties of Oswald's claim. It had only been after Oswald slaughtered several of them had they finally bowed their heads again. Begrudgingly so.

Then, there had been the GCPD to deal with.

Groaning, Oswald glared at the rising building. Absentmindedly, he ran a comb through his gelled hair. Brushed a bit of dust from his otherwise impeccable midnight-blue suit. Eyed the edifice, taking in the signs of neglect. The bricks were sooty and covered in dead ivy. The roof had been poorly repaired more than once, but Oswald doubted that it could handle an above-average storm. The steps were crumbling away like old biscuits.

My, my. Who said that crime doesn't pay?

Oswald spoke to Butch without actually looking at him. "Come pick me up before noon. This should be over by then."

Butch scratched his ear with his metal hand. "And if it ain't over?"

Oswald's jaw set. "I will end it." With that, he gathered his cane. Slammed it against the chipped pavement. Hoisting himself out of the limousine, he slammed the car shut. Hobbled his way up the steps. People gave him a couple of looks as he reached the doors. He completely ignored them.

The glass doors swung open. Everything hit him at once: the scents of coffee, sweat, deodorant, and freshly-printed papers. The cacophony of ringing phones, fax machines, and chatter pierced his eardrums like needles. Criminals fought and swore from behind their bars like angry chimps in a zoo. Cops sat at their desks or walked about, grave expressions printed on their sweaty visages.

Cheery place.

Sighing, Oswald extracted a pocket watch from his, well, pocket and clicked it open. Ten-thirty already? Where did the time go?

"Mr. Cobblepot." He knew that voice. Oswald raised his eyes to meet the tired blues of Jim Gordon. The guy looked like he hadn't had a proper meal in a week and a good night's sleep in two. His suit was wrinkled and there was dirt beneath his fingernails. How Oswald could have ever considered the guy alluring was now a mystery to him. Oswald straightened in posture. "Hello, old friend."

Jim nodded in reply. Tilted his head. "Shall we?"

Oswald shrugged. "Let us keep this brief, shall we? I have so much to do and so little time."

"Like the rest of us." Jim turned on his heel. Began treading towards his desk. Oswald followed. Just for a second, he wondered if this was what Ruby had to put up with daily. Tagging behind anyone, hands folded and head bowed. Constantly in submission.

Then, he wondered if he had ever made her feel under submission.

Jim all but crashed in his chair. Looked like he wanted nothing more than to curl up in it and sleep. Oswald perched on his. Wondering when was the last time the worn wood had been polished. Probably years. Bleah.

"So, Mr. Cobblepot-"

"Oh, Jim." Oswald gave him a tight smile. "We've endured much together. You spared my life. We exchanged secrets and favors. We even killed a man together."

Jim flinched.

"Thank you for visiting me in the hospital, by the way." Oswald's voice was thick with sarcasm. "Your concern for my well-being warmed the cockles of my little black heart."

"Sir-"

"So, you can just call me 'Oswald'." He concluded. "Or 'Oz'. Ruby calls me that, from time to time."

"Speaking of, uh, Ms. Sinclair." Jim swallowed. "You are aware of this video nonsense going on lately, right?" He looked even less enthusiastic about this interview than Oswald did. Which was really saying something.

"More than aware, actually." Oswald replied. "Its filthy content convinced a few spectators that using my home as target practice was perfectly fine."

Jim gave a sympathetic wince that Oswald thought...hoped...was genuine. "I'm sorry. It's Miss Sinclair they're targeting, not you. If you fire her-"

"Never going to happen." Oswald's voice was sharper than a scalpel.

Jim stopped. Stared at him. Oswald held his ground. Glaring at his former friend. Jim must have seen something in Oswald's face, for his own visage softened. "Um...I guess we should get down to business."

"Yes, that would be nice." Oswald agreed tersely.

Jim cleared his throat. "Well, okay..." He fingered his tie. Looked at Oswald. "I'm just going to say this."

Oswald waited.

"I...we...would like you to bring her here."

Oswald blinked. "Excuse me?"

"She poses a threat to the city, just like all of Strange's experiments." Jim's voice grew stronger. Memories flashed before his eyes. Memories best forgotten. "And all of this harassment that she's receiving will only push her to the edge. She could-"

"What?" Oswald challenged. "Snap? Start killing everyone in sight like that telekinetic girl in the Stephen King novel? Bring the city to its knees? Oh, wait! Don't tell me! Maybe she will band together with her fellow monstrosities and take over the world!" Oswald finished the hypothesis with a crazed giggle.

Jim groaned. "Oswald-"

"My answer is **_no_** , Gordon." Oswald cut him off again. He rose. "No, no, and no again. I will not have her leave unless she wishes to. And I certainly won't drag her here to be chained up like an animal!" He was screaming at this point.

"Who said anything about chains?" Jim snapped. "We're just trying to protect the city!"

"Well, you can start by tracking down Fish Mooney!" Oswald yelled. Everyone was staring at him. He didn't care. "Or any of the horrors that emerged from that bus."

"We-"

"Save it for the press, Gordon." Oswald cut him off. "Go ahead and lie some more. Tell the frightened citizens that you really are trying to catch those perversions instead of sitting around. Because I, good sir, am not that gullible." He leaned forward. His shiny, icy-blue eyes bore deep into Jim's. Sending shivers down the former soldier's back. "Face it. The law is powerless."

A moment later, he was gone.

Little did he know that by the end of the day, Jim Gordon would be, too. His badge sitting on his desk. Abandoned.

* * *

Professor Hugo Strange was sitting in a cell, and he was not afraid.

He had been put in a glass case, whose walls he had coated in formulas and notes. White against transparent, they kept him company during his countless hours of solitude. Beyond them, the walls were of thick brick. Dark, making it next to impossible to see how large this chamber was. All he knew for sure was that the door required a code to get in and out. But even the dense, bullet-proof walls couldn't block out the noises of the outside world. Of the regular sirens. Announcements. Yells. These were only a few things that made up his landscape now.

A high-tech section of Blackgate. Of all the places he'd thought he would end up, this was not one of them.

Nor was he afraid. Whatever would be, would be. Like life. Like science.

There was a mechanical beep, and the light above the door went from red to green.

Hugo frowned. Speaking of expectations. What time was it? He doubted it was lunch-time, it had only been a while since breakfast. And it couldn't be time for his daily walk around the yard. That came at nightfall.

So what-

What looked like a security guard stepped forward. Hands fisted at the sides. "Hello, doctor." A low, feminine voice crooned from the very male face. It was alarmingly familiar, yet Hugo couldn't put his finger on it. He rose from his previous cross-legged position. Stood his ground. "Who are you?"

"Oh, now I'm hurt." The face's structure began to rearrange itself. It was a horrifyingly amazing sight. "Don't you recognize your own experiment?"A wild mane of gray-blonde-brown curls bounced before the cage's lights. Within them, a round, chinless face shone with tearstains. Big, indigo eyes were puffy and pink.

Hugo instantly felt a swell of pride. "Hello, Ruby."

Ruby nodded. Stepped forward. "Nice to see they're keeping you all comfy and cozy. Now, let's talk bidness."

Hugo frowned patiently. "I beg your pardon?"

"This." Ruby waved her hands around her body. "This power you gave me. I want you to take it away."

Hugo blinked. Feeling like he had been punched in the gut. "What?"

"You heard me." Ruby's voice cracked. She edged closer to the cage. "Sure, it saved my butt. Big whoop. But because of this power, I'm becoming the town's new favorite pin cushion." She gave a bitter laugh. "I don't think the Aurora killer got this much hate!" Tears slid down her cheeks.

"But why?" Hugo asked calmly. Feeling almost like a doctor again. "As you yourself just verified, my experiment saved your life. It reset your biological makeup and stabilized your condition. Why would you want to go back to the condition you were once in?"

"Because it's got to be better than this!" Ruby was openly crying now. She put a hand on her heart. "You know what? I could even handle being accosted on the streets, if that's all there was to it. But..." She swallowed. "Because of this power, because I revealed it...I lost something I cherish something very deeply." She swallowed hard. "I'm losing someone I like, someone..." She paused. Looked deep into his eyes. "Someone I may even love. Please."

Hugo felt touched. He remembered Ruby Sinclair, better than he would admit. She had been a peculiar case since her debut. Her parents were both famous and fabulously wealthy, yet had appeared to him in disguise and paid him an additional five thousand dollars to keep their identities a secret from the press. They had sent him a weekly check to pay for the experimental cures, yet had never come to visit or called. It had only been through examining Ruby's DNA and studying her condition had he finally learned the truth.

Some would say that Ruby had been a 'freak' long before he'd ever injected her with the clay mixture.

Hugo shook his head. "I cannot."

Ruby looked like she hadn't understood. "What?"

"I cannot reverse what has already been done."

In an instant Ruby was upon the glass wall. Beating it with her fists. "But you have to!" She yelled. "I'll - I'll kill you if you don't!"

"Your body has fused with the mixture at this point." Hugo explained. "Your genetic makeup has changed, revolving itself around the substance that saved it. The formula not only granted you these powers, but it gave your body the tools it needed to fix itself. If I take that away, you wouldn't last the night." He paused. "And even if I agreed to this suicide, I couldn't. Even with a fully-stocked laboratory at my disposal. The mixture runs in your veins, resides in your bones, and circles in your organs. It is part of you, and it can never be removed."

There was a terrible silence. It was deep and heavy, like an iron drape. Cutting off all air. All hope. Ruby stared at him with huge eyes. "Strange," she whispered " _I can't live like this._ "

Hugo shook his head again. "I'm sorry." He truly meant it.

Ruby closed her eyes. More tears ran down her face. "Me, too."

* * *

Home had never been so wonderful to see again.

Dropping Butch's payment in the backseat, with instructions to return later that afternoon, Oswald entered his sanctuary. It immediately reached out to embrace him. The air was cool and crisp, laced with lemon soap and fresh flowers. The hardwood floors were as polished as mirrors. Above his head, the dusted chandelier cast specs of rainbow light across the walls. The carpets were vacuumed, the stairs' banisters shined.

Sitting on the dining table, right where Oswald always sat, was a covered dish.

With a tiny smile, Oswald hobbled in its direction. With a flourish he removed the silver container. A spiral of steam curled up to brush his face. When the scent hit his beaked nose, Oswald felt his mouth water. Three perfect crab-cakes, golden-brown and plump, sat on the platter. Each was the size of a baseball, and looked succulent. Oswald immediately grabbed one and took a relish bite. The sweet, tender meat had his tastebuds tingling with delight. He chomped it down greedily, licking his fingers when he was done.

That was when he noticed a folded note neatly placed under the platter. Wiping his hand on the nearby napkin, Oswald took the note. Ruby's small, curly handwriting trembled on the paper.

 _Hi, Oz._

 _Have you finished reading_ The October Country _yet? If so, would you mind bringing it to my room? I didn't want to look through your belongings._

 _Thanks,_

 _-R_

Oswald smiled at the mention of the book. A couple of weeks ago, Oswald had seen Ruby reading Bradbury's famous novel during her coffee break. When asked if it was good, Ruby had grinned and given it to him without question. Oswald had been so touched that he hadn't even protested.

He was almost sad to part with it. Doing so would have been like saying goodbye to a piece of their friendship. Another plank in the distant ship.

Ten minutes later, Oswald was standing before the attic door. His heart was heavy, but his knock was light. "Um, Ruby? Are you in there?" He couldn't help noting how futile his order had been on her calling him 'Mr. Cobblepot', and how equally useless his attempts at calling her by her surname had been.

There was a moment's pause. Then, in a soft voice: "Yes, I'm here. Please, come in, Oz."

He did. And wasn't happy by what he saw.

In all of their time together, Oswald had entered this room only twice before. Neither times had he examined it properly. Now that he was actually looking, he hoped that the current setting wasn't permenant.

The room half the size of Oswald's bedroom, with a slanted ceiling. The wooden planks looked like they had seen better days. There was only one window, positioned above a perch loaded with worn cushions. The window was very large, taking up almost the entire crooked wall, and oval. A giant glass eye. But right now, it was blinded. Both the curtains and the blinds had been cast over it. The lack of light made the chamber resemble a crypt.

In the midst of this gloominess, Ruby was sitting at a desk. Her back to him.

Feeling more awkward than ever, Oswald lurched towards it. He gave the place a few casual glances during his tread. A small bed was hiding in the corner. So neat that he was tempted to flip a coin on it, like something out of a cartoon. A handmade quilt glowed faintly in the dark like a dying ember.

The bed was flanked on both sides. On one side was a nightstand with a tallow candle atop it. On the other side was a bookshelf as tall as Oswald would be if not for his limp. Each shelf was stuffed with books. More books were piled at the foot of Ruby's bed.

A couple of Polaroid pictures were taped to the otherwise bare walls. Most of them were of Father. Oswald's stomach twisted at the sight of him. In one shot, Father was dressed in a particularly elegant fashion. Ruby was standing beside him, looking sad and happy at the same time. She wore a light blue dress. The sapphire necklace contrasted the dress's simple design. Behind them, Oswald could see a pastor. With a jolt, he realized that this must have been taken the day Father married that banshee, Grace.

Good riddance.

The walls were mostly bare, with only a mirror facing the window. Oswald noticed that the mirror was currently cowering behind a shawl. Why had Ruby placed it there? Could she not look at herself?

The only other furniture was a small closet and the desk that Ruby was sitting at. Now that he was closer, Ruby saw that she was slouching, her face in her hands.

Oswald swallowed. After some hesitation, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Um, hello, Ruby. I brought your book."

Ruby looked up. Oswald had to stop himself from gasping. Her eyes were even puffier than usual. They almost looked like the scleras were bleeding. Her cheeks were heavy with tearstains, and purple crescents resided under her eyes. Her usually perky peach complexion was as white as wax. Ruby looked at him. Then, she cleared her throat. "Er, Oz...can I ask you something?"

Oswald nodded at once. "Anything."

"Your meeting with Jim Gordon today...did it have anything to do with me?" Ruby sounded scared to find out.

Oswald bit his lip. "No. Why?"

Some of the tension left Ruby's shoulders. "Oh, good. I was worried that the paranoia had reached the cops, too."

Oswald felt like someone had kicked him in the shin.

Ruby gave a weak smile as she watched him. "It's nice to know you haven't turned on me."

"Ruby," Oswald spoke, "I may be angry with you, but I actually do care." He swallowed. "I know that this will not be easy, but can you please tell me more about this video business? We, eh, did not have the chance last night."

"Don't remind me." Ruby groaned. "And, I'm still sorting it out myself."

"I have time." Oswald leaned against the wall. Waiting. Ruby looked down at her hands, seemingly gathering her strength. Her face crumpled. "Basically, Barbara called me and said she needed help with the mafiosos bugging her. You know, the former owners?"

Oswald nodded.

"So I went there, only to find some freak in bad Zorro cosplay waiting for me. I don't know who it was, but he...she...fuck if I know, it just started attacking me. I held it off for as long as I could, but finally, it had me bleeding all over the place. And I...I got mad." Tears filled her eyes. " _Really_ mad."

"I saw." Oswald commented. "You were seconds away from killing whomever it was."

"I get that." Ruby's tone adopted an edge. Her eyes narrowed. "I train every day to keep my powers under control. And normally I don't end up on videos, okay?"

Oswald quickly shifted gears. "Do you have any idea who might have taken the video of you fighting that masked individual?" _I certainly do._

"No." Ruby shrugged helplessly. "Probably Barbara. She was acting like her usual, snobby self over the phone. And it was on _her_ property."

Oswald winced. His hand connected with her shoulder. "I am deeply sorry, Ruby."

"How can I get a viral video taken down?" Ruby sounded a little hysterical now. Her skin was rippling across the muscle. "I know it's spreading. What-what if someone from the government sees that? I don't wanna be taken away for testing." She shook her head. Buried her face in her hands. "God, what if...what if _they_ saw it?"

"Ruby." Oswald was on his knees now. He forced Ruby to look at him with teary eyes. He brushed some of them away with his cuff. "No one is taking you away." He almost added, _from me_. "We _will_ resolve this. I promise."

Ruby stared at him. Wanting to believe him. But too tired to believe in miracles anymore. Her eyes glazed over. Whatever spark, however blue, sank beneath the surface. "Thanks, Oz." She gestured to the window. "You can put my book there. Please." Oswald pursed his lips together. Nodding, he rose with a wince. Ruby stared blankly down at the desk as Oswald set the book on one of the pillows. He noticed what appeared to be documents poking out from under the cushions. Hmm.

Ruby inhaled shakily. Turned back in her chair. "O-Oz, can I ask you something? And please be honest."

Oswald nodded. Ruby's fingers began to shake. "I need to know if my suspicions regarding Barbara are true."

Oswald didn't move. Didn't speak. Just waited.

Ruby winced. "Should I go to the police?"

Oswald froze. Jim's words slithered across his mind like eels in water.

 _"She poses a threat to the city, just like all of Strange's experiments."_

He knew exactly what would happen if she stepped into that building. He shook his head. "They would never believe you."

Ruby stared at him. Oswald ploughed forth. "You are on video, viciously attacking a normal person with no abnormal enhancements. They will use that against you, claiming that you could be a danger to others."

"But I was set up." Ruby sounded ready to cry.

"That is what you have to prove, not them." Oswald countered. Every word was a stone in his heart. "I'm sorry."

Ruby's sadness quickly evolved into bitterness. "So I just let everyone keep calling me monster? Shooting at this house? Attacking me on the street? Saying I should be locked up? Thanks, Oz. I needed that." She twisted back in her chair. Began to weep silently.

Knowing that she was beyond comfort, Oswald turned away with a heavy heart. But as he did, motivation raced through him. He marched out of the room, his next destination set in his mind.

Barbara had some dues to pay.


	32. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The next few hours seemed to drag on like dying slugs. The meeting was always just out of reach. But so far away. Oswald tried to focus on his duties, on his minions and business, but everything kept slipping between his fingers like sand.

Oswald gave up on concentration by the time the clock struck five. An hour before the meeting was to take place. Darkness was beginning to peak through the sky's corners. Ready to jump out and play.

Good. If anything went wrong, then at least the servants would have the cover of night to bury the bodies in.

Oswald sat at the head of the table. Staring into his dark red wine. It was like concentrated pomegranate juice. Persephone had once eaten six mere seeds, and damned half her existence without even realizing it. He wondered how much of his own life he was damning by...well, everything he was currently doing. Would he live to a ripe old age, as Falcone had? Or would he end up shot in the head by an ally, as Maroni? It wasn't the first time Oswald had asked himself these things. But during those other times, he had felt more than capable of handling it. With Ruby by his side, he had felt that he could conquer the world.

Now? He was struggling to keep his own allies from betraying him.

Oswald glanced at the old grandfather clock on the far end of the room. Three minutes past five. He had just under fifty-seven minutes left to wait. And his brain felt too hyper to concentrate on literature or music. He could always summon a servant and proceed to strangle them with their own entrails. That was always time-consuming as it was enjoyable. But no, even that didn't seem appealing to him tonight.

Try as he might, Oswald couldn't get the jewel-loving servant girl out of his head. Just remembering the way she'd sobbed as he'd turned on his heel and left...that twisted the knife of guilt protruding from his chest.

Oswald rose. His cane clicked rhythmically against the worn wooden planks. The chamber's door closed firmly behind him. He clicked his fingers, and a servant appeared. "Yes, sir?"

"Have refreshments set out on the table within the hour." Oswald said. "And I want a television wheeled into the room, projecting the viral video concerning Miss Sinclair."

The servant - a young boy, green as grass - blushed as he looked down.

Oswald quirked a thin, dark brow at him. "I presume by your expression that you watched it?"

"Just one...and a half times." The servant boy admitted.

Oswald sighed, leaning his head back. Stayed silent for a moment. He glanced back at the boy. "Harry, was it?"

"Henry, sir."

"Henry." Oswald echoed firmly. "This is your first and only warning: if I ever hear of you watching that atrocious product of shamelessness and slander again, I will have you strung up by your genitals and leave you for the crows. Is that clear?"

Henry looked ready to faint. Instead, he nodded in a jittery fashion. "Y-y-yes, sir."

"Good." Oswald gestured to the room that he had departed from. "Now, get that place dusted and a fire roaring. I want my guests to be...comfortable." A serpentine smile crawled upon his pallid face. Henry all but ran into the cubicle, slamming the door shut behind him. Oswald scoffed at the display. "Teenagers." That business solved, he began his ascent.

Five minutes later, he was knocking on the attic door. Funny. Nothing for ages, and now two stopovers over the course of a few hours. "Ruby?"

Silence.

Another knock. "Ruby? Is everything alright?"

Of course, everything was anything but alright. But he didn't know what else to ask. Apparently, neither did Ruby. Oswald cleared his throat. "I am coming in, so please be decent." He twisted the knob, only to find resistance. Oswald blinked, then sighed. Of course. She wasn't home. Oswald's first instinct was to drop the idea and return downstairs. But something kept him rooted to the spot.

And it was an almost alien sentiment for him: compassion.

Oswald knew what it was like to be hated, rejected, and tormented.

He had endured all of that and more from the moment he'd first stepped out of his mother's incence-scented apartment. Kids had bullied him for everything: his clothes, his skinny figure, his beaky nose, and his high grades. At first, the harrassment had limited itself to name-calling and erect legs that caused Oswald to trip more times than he could count. Then, it had devolved into kids literally throwing rubbish at him, somehow obtaining his house's phone number and jeering at him through the receiver, and coating his bike in eggs. Once, Oswald remembered how a classmate had used the swimming hour as an oppurtunity to put a firecracker in Oswald's slipper. To this day, Oswald was convinced that if he hadn't heard that faint hissing noise and removed his foot in time, he'd have lost two toes at least. And everyone would have found it hysterical.

At least he'd never wound up on the world-wide web.

Not for the first time, Oswald felt ashamed. But this time, something else accompanied the sensation. A desire to do something, however small, to give Ruby hope.

Deftly, before he could change his mind, Oswald slipped his cane's hidden blade out from its sheath. Slid it into the lock. _Clic, clic, clic_. The door yielded with a creak. Oswald stepped inside. The floorboards squeaked beneath his uneven shuffles. Quickly hiding the blade back in its slender wooden case, Oswald stepped further into the room. Without Ruby, it was just a hollow shell. With the drawn curtains, it felt gloomy and even hostile, much like its owner. But this time, without anyone to watch him, Oswald felt a strange liberty. Distracting him from his destination: Ruby's desk.

"You kept the truth from me," Oswald whispered, "I just want to understand why."

His hands began digging through the shelves. In the closet. Under the bed. Strangely enough, Oswald found multiple fashion magazines piled on top of each other. This surprised him almost as much as Ruby's powers had. In the year that the two had known each other, Ruby had never struck him as fashion-conscious. But as he looked closer, Oswald noticed something: the magazines were all centered on the same model. Opal Sinclair.

Coincedence? Oswald doubted it.

He eyed the model, holding the glossy paper up to catch the best of the gloomy light. She was stunning to say the least. Radiant fair skin, completely devoid of the wrinkles women her age are normally burdened with. A face as round and as pale as the moon, with large, cat-like eyes the color of liquid silver. Her hair was very curly and the exact shade of honey. It cascaded down her back in perfect little waves. Her body was as close as a real woman can get to Jessica Rabbit. But Oswald only noticed a couple of key elements in her image: the familiar curls, the round face, and the big eyes.

Oswald's heart began to trot within his ribcage. He quickly began to turn the pages, searching for more clues. More logs to toss in the fire. He found them soon enough in pictures of an interview concerning both the model and her manager, who turned out to be her brother. Jasper Sinclair. Oswald brought the paper close. The siblings were sitting very closely to each other, so much so that their elbows were almost touching. They also looked as alike as two people of the opposite sex can look, aside from a small minor differences. For instance, Jasper's hair was not the impeccable, warm blonde that his sister had. Instead, it was an odd - yet familiar - mixture of blonde, brown, and gray. His features were a bit sharper, and his eyes were smaller. His chin was weaker than office coffee.

Oswald felt ice coat the inside of his stomach. He began to read the interview typed below the picture.

 _So, Miss Sinclair, what inspired you to become a model in the first place?_

 _Well, isn't it obvious? Boys everywhere would have grieved if I had kept my body to myself._

Oswald rolled his eyes. Kept reading.

 _But from what we've heard, your family has suffered from minor genetic problems in the past. Isn't that right?_

Jasper stepped in.

 _Well, yes. You see, our family moved to America from Scotland in the late 1800s. But centuries before that, when Scotland had been divided into clans, the Sinclairs were very hostile and distrusting of anyone outside the clan. So, to keep the name from dying out, and to avoid betrayal, they often married amongst themselves. Marriage among cousins, usually. And while this managed to keep the bloodlines pure, it also gave birth to a list of minor deformities that came with it. Mostly, they were caused by the cells being unable to reproduce properly. So, even if a Sinclair looked normal on the outside, they could still carry this genetic print and pass it on to their offspring._

 _I'm so sorry_ , the interviewer said, _how you have to suffer for something your ancestors did._

 _Yes. Most of our relatives suffer from small deformities. Some have large lumps on their skin. Others had almost permenantly red eyes because the veins in their scleras kept bursting. Others had deformed, or malproportioned organs. The two of us were the first Sinclairs in at least two generations to have none of these things. So, we decided to make the most of it._

Oswald tossed the article back under the bed. Unwilling to read the rest of this trash. But as he rose, continuously searching, he found himself piecing the facts together. He recalled that night when he and Ruby had been attacked by Galavan. How, just a little while before, Ruby had mentioned her parents being ashamed of the way she'd looked.

She had also been in Arkham. Had had her DNA toyed with.

Oswald's heart was beating so quickly now, he felt it in his ears. Unable to sort through the scrambled shreds that had once been his brain, he limped to the patio beneath the window. All but crashed into the soft cushions. He closed his eyes. Focused on breathing. On keeping the tears at bay. He brought his hands to his temples. Massaged them gently. Trying to twirl and rearrange the pieces in order to fit them together. But there was something missing. A gaping hole in the puzzle glaring at him. If he could just find it...

He shifted in his seat, thinking about all the times Ruby must have rested on this exact spot. Reading. Polishing her jewels. Or maybe just thinking. He shifted again, this time with more comfort.

The crinkle of a paper stopped him.

Oswald remained still, wondering if he'd heard right, before moving again. There it was again. Paper. Within reach. Oswald experimentally searched under the cushions. Nothing. Under the small mattress placed on the ledge. His fingers found their treasure.

His heart was now deafening. Roaring. Like he was standing right beneath a giant waterfall. But he couldn't stop now. Not when he was so close. Oswald examined the file. Shivered when he saw the Arkham logo on it, along with the red lettering defining the document as 'confidential'. Not caring, he ripped it open. Scanned through 'before' and 'after' photos. Several signed cheques in a flourish, unreadable handwriting. Pages upon pages of formulas that Oswald couldn't hope to understand. But at last, he found hand-written notes near the end of the pile.

 _The subject I currently have in my care is most unique, both in origin and in resolution. Ruby Sinclair, aged 18, is the result of a less-than-ideal union, no matter what her parents say. In the few minutes that I spent in their presence, I can already write in length about their own condition. It is not as obvious as their daughter's, but it is just as dire. These two siblings grew up in a rigid, traditional household. They were homeschooled for most of their lives, right up to college, and never formed any lasting bonds outside of their family. I suspect that the Sinclair family has been practicing this way of life for so long, that they have either no idea how to change or lack any desire to. Opal and Jasper Sinclair, both named after precious gemstones because of their beauty and value to their parents, were not exposed to their peers until it was far too late. Their vanity only grew, to the point that they believed themselves immune to consequences. Thus, they believed that a union between them would be as perfect as they were. I suspect that the moment they saw Ruby, who, as they claim, began manifesting symptoms since the age of three, the revelation disgusted them to the point that they preferred pretending the problem never existed. Hence the subject's lifelong captivity._

Oswald covered his mouth with his hand.

 _The mother, Opal, was on leave for nine months but then claimed to have lost the baby when, in fact, the child was born a couple of weeks early. This, in addition to her damaged DNA, was a recipe for disaster._

 _However, there may be a way to save her. I have been perfecting a 'clay' formula meant to both repair and enhance a person's DNA. To put it briefly, it is intended to enter a person's body and supply it with all of the cells that it needs to function properly. I admit that I was inspired by stem cell research, and tried to utilize a different route to avoid lawsuits. The only issue is that, thus far, all of the subjects (all suffering from degenerating diseases that so far lack a cure) rejected the formula and often died soon after the administration. It is risky, no doubt, but I find there to be no alternative to the subject's worsening health._

 _UPDATE: Operation has proven successful._

The folder hit the floor. Bleeding papers and photos. Oswald hid his face in his hands. Struggling to stay in control. Yet screaming on the inside.

How? How had he failed to realize it sooner? How had he cared so little as to not delve into the enigma himself?

With the shame came the guilt. He remembered all the nights he'd broken down crying as he visited his mother's death in sleep. He'd feel arms wrap around his middle, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, and staying with him until dawn. He remembered all the times Ruby had shared stories with him about his father, bringing them closer through her words. She had given him peace regarding both his parents' deaths. And what had he done for her in return? Nothing. He'd never even inquired about them. Why?

Because, after a while, he'd stopped caring about the issue. That was the cold, hard truth.

"Ruby," Tears streamed down his hollow cheeks and dripped down his pointed nose, "I'm sorry. I'm so, _so_ sorry." He tried to regain control. And failed. Miserably.

A rapid succession of knocks snapped his head up. "What?!" He yelled hoarsely.

"Um, sir." Henry's timid voice trembled through the woodwork like a dying maggot. "Er, your guests have arrived."

"What?" Oswald reached into his jacket's breast pocket and extracted his small watch. The hour struck him harder than a slap. "My God. Alright!" He raised his voice. "I will be down in a moment. Have them served whilst I descend!"

"Yes, sir!" Henry's rapidly fading footsteps left him alone again. Alone with the truth.

Oswald struggled to regulate his breathing. Placing his hands on his abdoment to help. Counting ten seconds before inhaling and exhaling. For the first time, Oswald was grateful to the therapist his mother had dragged him to back in junior high. If not for the breathing exercises, he might have had daily panic attacks since Fish Mooney first broke his leg.

Gathering the cursed papers, Oswald quickly shoved them back whence he'd found them. Then, he walked towards the desk. At last. He reached into his jacket's inner pocket and extracted a note. On its back was the careful sketch of a white rose. He placed it on the center of the polished wooden surface. And then, he left the small room and all of its secrets. Feeling like a different person altogether.

* * *

Faint voices wafted up the staircase like ghosts. Oswald slowed down. Listened carefully. There were two voices; one gruff and calm, the second higher and more nervous. Oswald picked up the pace. As he neared the conversation, he recognized the voices. The realization pierced him like a gunshot.

"Sinclair, are you sure you're not just looking for attention?"

"That's really cruel, Butch. You just don't get it!" A frustrated whine. "Just leave me alone."

"Jesus, just try to be clear for once!"

"Why? It's all over, like me."

"Knock off this stupid martyr crap!"

Oswald hurried down. But with every forcefully accelerated step set his knee on fire. Forcing him to slow down. Nearly screaming with frustration, Oswald listened to the rest.

"What do you _want_ from me, Butch? Huh? You think bothering me is gonna hook you up with Tabitha?"

"I just want you to be honest, woman!"

"Nobody believes me anyway."

Oswald finally reached the last step. Just in time to see Ruby storming out the front door, head bowed and hugging herself. The slam behind her felt horribly final. Oswald turned to Butch, who was rubbing the back of his fat neck. Actually looking guilty. "Butch!" Oswald's voice cut his distracting thoughts down. When Butch saw him, he reddened and looked down. Oswald marched towards him, clanging his cane with a white-knuckled grip. "What in God's name is going on?"

"Uh, er, nothing, I-"

"Lie to me again, and you'll be lying underground." Oswald hissed. Butch's face went from red to stark white. Good. "Now. What is going on?"

Butch sighed. "I just...wanted to get some info out of her. This whole thing seems fishy as hell, so-"

"So you accused her of being a martyr in search of attention." Oswald clicked his tongue. "Oh, my dear boy. You have all the detective skills of a moldy lemon." He glanced back at the front door. A lump formed in his throat. He swallowed it back down. "Never mind. Are the Sirens here?"

Butch frowned at him. "Well, yeah, but what's this all about?"

"You will see." Oswald shoved him through the doors. Warmth and smoke reached out to greet him. With them came the crackling of burning logs. Oswald stood in the doorway. Taking in the sight. As he had ordered, the room had been cleaned up for the meeting. A roaring blaze dominated the fireplace. Burning bright orange and crackling with satisfaction.

The deep green wallpaper shone with vigor, the paintings gleaming like mirrors. The lacey jade curtains, fresh from the dryer, rippled gently from their rungs. The carpets, all depicting intertwining vines and flowers, had been shampooed. The antique furniture was clean, the table waxed. Overall, the setting was pleasing to the eye: the company was not. Butch was bumbling his way to a chair, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. The Sirens, by contrast, had made themselves at home. Barbara, dressed in a pink cashmere sweater and tight, inky-blue jeans, was nibbling on a cucumber sandwich. Tabitha, robed in black velvet, sat in one of the armchairs with a glass of whiskey in her hands.

Oswald smirked. "Comfortable?"

"I would've been, if I'd had someone to play cards with during the wait." Tabitha eyed Butch. "Where were you?"

"Uh, nowhere." Butch cleared his throat. "Er, I just saw Sinclair."

"I think everybody's seen Sinclair by now." Barbara commented. Tabitha let out a loud snort that made Oswald want to thrust her head in the fireplace. Instead, he forced a polite smile. "It seems that you are making light of a video gone viral."

The Sirens both shrugged.

Oswald continued. Lurching towards the wine cabinet. Selecting a favorite, he poured himself a glass. Without wine, he feared, he might go ballistic. "This entire situation has triggered some rather deep thoughts in my mind. It makes me wonder how it would feel to have falsified images of yourself published for everyone to judge."

Barbara rolled her eyes. Like this was all a game.

Oswald drank. The hot wine raced down his throat. Hit his knotted stomach with a resounding splash. Now slightly quelled, he continued. "Usually, people require a subject matter, be it an individual, group, or even a country, to critisize so that they never take a good look at themselves. In the end, we can only blame ourselves for participating-"

The door burst open. A servant boy poked his head out like a frenzied jack-in-the-box. "Yo! Some crazy shit's going on outside!"

"You!" Oswald spun around and threw the glass at the door. Glass shards and crimson liquid collided with its surface. The boy shuddered. "Don't you ever barge in here that way again!" Oswald yelled. "Lest you want me to steal your tongue as insurance!"

"I-I'm sorry, sir." The servant bowed his head. "But it's important! The head maid. She's..." He swallowed.

"What?" Oswald stepped closer. His anger forgotten. "What happened?"

The servant boy shuddered. "She's on the roof, and-"

Oswald shoved past him, running as quickly as his damaged knee would allow. Not a second later, Butch, Tabitha, and Barbara all followed his lead. Pushing past the servant boy. Leaving him alone. He stood there. Blinked. "Uh." He cleared his throat. "I'll just...clean up here, then."

* * *

It had begun to rain. Above, the skies were a deep, unforgiving gray; the color of gunmetal. Torrents of icy water sloshed downt to pelt everything that flew, crawled, or stood still. Rolls of thunder rumbled across the heavens. Below, the trees tremble beneath the acquatic ammunition and the sidewalk was already soaked through. The servants had only their hands to shield themselves from the aerial assault. But Butch, Tabitha, and Barbara watched the scene from the safety of their umbrellas.

Tabitha stared with wide eyes. "Is this for real?"

Barbara laughed. "Bitch flipped out!"

As Oswald hurried towards the centerpoint of everyone's interest, a passing-by servant girl muttered, "I didn't think she was _that_ fucked up." His knee was sizzling with pain at this point. His shoes were already ruined, and his gelled hair was now drooping down. Trying to see through the rain, Oswald pushed forward. Looking up. What he saw would haunt him forever.

Ruby was standing on the roof. A dark figure against a darker sky. Even from over a hundred feet below, Oswald could sense the dreadful calm emanating from her.

" _No!_ " He screamed. " _No, no, no!_ " Broke into a run. His knee felt like it was being beaten with a socket wrench, but he couldn't have cared less. Bursting through the back door, he dived up the spiral steps like a bird taking the sky. His pants and stomps bounced across the narrow, stony corridor. With every closing step, he could sense Ruby's intention as though it were his. He could feel her draining patience, too. Oswald knew that he had a minute, at best.

 _Keep...going...Oswald..._

He encouraged himself as he ran, fighting the strain on his knee.

 _You...can...do...it._

At last, he reached the door on the top of the staircase. Out of breath and with limbs like Jell-O, he pushed it open. The swinging metal contraption clanged loudly against the brick wall.

The noise startled Ruby enough to spin around. When her eyes found Oswald's pale, sweating face, her bleeding heart stopped. More tears filled her eyes. "What're you _doing_ here, Oz?"

Oswald was so relieved to see her that he cracked a smile. Took a step. Slipped. Crashed on his side before quickly climbing up, clothes dripping. Ruby gasped. Shook her head. "Stop! Don't come near me!"

Oswald looked down at himself, soaking and muddy, before raising his gaze. His eyes were bright and blue as crystals. Painfully beautiful. Ruby couldn't have asked for a better sight before dying. But she didn't want Oswald to witness this. Swallowing, she tried to sound more confident that she felt. "Oz, seriously, stay where you are. I _will_ jump!"

Oswald's pupils dialated at the threat. He raised his pale hands up in surrender. "A-alright, alright. I will stay here." He sighed. "Ruby, please."

Ruby's round face crumpled. Her pixie-cut hair was plastered into a helmet shape around her face and neck. With a shudder, Oswald noticed that she was dressed completely in black: a floor-length black skirt, a black blouse, and black Mary Janes. Her ears carried onyx earrings, her fingers were heavy with jet, obsidian, and black opals. Her neck carried a black pearl necklace.

She had dressed for her own funeral.

"Please." Oswald repeated.

Ruby made a strangled little noise. "Oh, Oz. I know you want to help me. But I'm beyond help." Oswald remembered saying the exact same thing to dear Ed all those months ago, right before he'd been dragged to Arkham. Ruby sniffled. "I love that you gave me some support today, but it doesn't matter now. Nothing matters."

"You matter." Oswald stepped forward, careful not to be too quick. "And not by me alone."

Ruby grimaced as though she'd smelled something foul. "Yeah, right. My own family has wanted me gone from the moment I was born." Something in Oswald's face must have shown, for Ruby threw her hands up. "Why not? What have I to lose anymore?" She dropped her arms. "I'm a product of ** _incest_** , Oswald! My parents were siblings!" She began to cry and laugh bitterly at the same time. The sight broke Oswald's heart. She let the tears fall along with the rain. "They chose to walk out those gates and leave me forever!"

"I know." Oswald blurted out. Realizing his mistake, he quickly recovered. "I-I know how it feels to be abandoned. For most of my life, I felt that my father had abandoned me. Yes, I learned the truth later, but up until a year ago, I had thought myself unworthy of a father's love." He swallowed. "You mattered to my father, Ruby. I can tell from those photos in your room, and the way you two interacted. He loved you as if you had been his."

Ruby sniffled. Sighed. Didn't move.

Encouraged, Oswald pushed on. "Ruby, your life is still yours. You control your destiny. You cannot control your origin, but you can control what to make of it." He held out his hand. "Please. We can get through this together."

A shaky, tiny smile made its way on Ruby's rain-soaked face. "It's...it's nice to hear you care about me. It...makes me feel a bit better."

Oswald took another step forward. Placed a hand on his heart without noticing. "Of course I do. I told you this morning, no? You're my friend, Ruby."

Ruby became rigid. Stared into his eyes with a curious expression. "So you're telling me you're okay..." she held up a hand, "...with this?" Her hand rippled before shape-shifting into a rose of flesh, bones, and veins. It was a horrifyingly beautiful sight. In an instant, the change reversed.

Oswald took another step. "Your powers were not the true cause of my anger, but your dishonesty."

Ruby blinked miserably at him.

Oswald held out his hands. "Ruby, please trust me. Come stand by me, alright? Just now, I was discussing the video with Barbara and Tabitha. I know that they published it, and I intend to make them pay."

"Are you serious?" Another smile appeared on Ruby's face. A wider one. "Thank you so much..." She reached up and wiped her eyes. "The fact that you don't care about my heritage, or my powers, means more to me than you can imagine."

"I think I can imagine." Oswald lightly joked. "We punished our tormentors once, and we shall do it again."

"You sound so persuasive, Oz." Ruby sniffed. "If only..."

"Ruby, I believe you. I believe _in_ you." Oswald finally allowed a little of his emotional turmoil break through. Tears leaked down his cheeks. "Please, you don't have to do this."

Ruby closed her eyes with a sigh. "Oz, I'm in a nightmare. I've been in a nightmare since the day I was born, and I can't wake up...unless I fall asleep." She broke down crying, her shoulders shaking. "I never asked for it to be this way. I never asked to be _made_."

Oswald hesitated. Let loose something he'd kept locked within himself. "I believe...I am to blame for that."

Ruby blinked up at him through her tears. Confusion circled in her puffy, pink eyes.

Oswald edged a little closer. "Since childhood, I have been alone. With the exception of my mother, I could only trust and rely on myself. After years, I began to grow used to solitude; enjoy it, even. But for quite a while before, and even occasionally afterwards, I wished for a friend. Someone whom I could talk to, with whom I could watch films, plot schemes, and laugh."

Ruby's eyes widened. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

"I asked Fate, for that was all I believed in, to send me one. I did not mind waiting, but I desperately wanted a friend. And I believe, after all of this time, my wish was granted when I met you."

Ruby sighed shakily. Tears streamed down her face. "You're such a good person, Oz. Sure, you can be kinda snobby, quick to temper, and you wear too much velvet." She inhaled like her lungs were made of wet tissue paper. "But I'll come with you." A real smile. At last. "You're my friend."

Oswald wanted to cry. He held his hand out. Ruby stared at it for a second. Then, wavered. Leaning forward, she seized it with both hands. Oswald pulled. They both hit the cement with muffled splashes. Ruby buried her face in Oswald's vest. He wrapped his thin arms around her. Buried his pointed nose in her soggy hair. Ruby broke into fresh sobs. "I'm _sorry!_ " She wept. "Sorry..."

Oswald cracked a tiny smile. Pushed some wet hair behind her ear. "What are you talking about? You saved me from the worst meeting of all time."

Ruby laughed and cried at the same time. Coiled her shaking arms around Oswald. He tightened his hold on her.

They stayed like that for a long time.


	33. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Down below was quiet bedlam.

Servants crowded the lawn, biting their nails and exchanging hushed gossip. Butch, Barbara, and Tabitha found shelter beneath one of the apple trees. Barbara shamelessly plucked one off its branch and bit into it greedily. Sirens wailed across the dripping grass, bouncing off the soaked trees. Red and blue light fought wanly against the darkening sky. An ambulance, in the heist to get there in time, had crushed the small wooden fence protecting the vegetable garden. Thankfully, only a few cabbages now found themselves under the vehicle's huge wheels. Parked directly below the building, out of the rain, was a police car with two well-known associates leaning against it.

One wore a badge. One didn't.

Harvey Bullock looked cautiously at his friend. Feeling the tension between them heavy as a drape. Jim didn't even look at him. From indifference or shame, Harvey had no idea. Ever since Jim had walked out of the GCPD, leaving his tools and a note behind, he'd become a different person. Harvey loved the guy like a brother, and knew him well enough to understand the cause: Penguin's guilt trip, combined with the monsters running around and his falling-out with Lee, had just been too much.

Yeah, he understood. But it didn't make it hurt any less.

"So," Harvey scratched his beard. "Why're you here? This is police business, not bounty hunting stuff."

"Sinclair's one of the mutants Strange cooked up." Jim's tone was as flat and chilly as the puddles of rainwater growing beneath their feet. He still wasn't looking at Harvey, but on the building. "This whole suicide thing might go wrong."

Harvey sighed. "Jim. Really, buddy, you have no authority to be here. I'm gonna hafta ask you to leave."

Jim glared at him from the corner of his eye. "You do, and you'll regret it if Sinclair ends up snapping."

Harvey opened his mouth, then closed it. In that moment, his walkie-talkie buzzed. Thank God. He held it up to his mouth. "Bullock."

"Any news?" The muffled voice crackled from the contraption.

"No, not yet." Bullock shook his head even though his colleague couldn't see it. "We got the call fifteen minutes ago, and I got here just three minutes ago. I tried callin' but no one's answering."

"Has the alleged suicidal jumped?"

"No." Bullock denied. "In fact, I don't see her. I think she might have changed her mind. I'm gonna give her another minute, then I'm going up."

A fizzle echoed from the receiver. "Man, these attention-seekers. What, they think we ain't got better stuff to do?"

Bullock cracked a faint smile. "Probably. Talk to you later."

He hung up just in time to see the doors open. All of the servants gasped. Barbara tossed the apple core over her shoulder, an eyebrow quirked. Butch and Tabitha stood on either side of her, curiosity radiating from their faces. Harvey's eyebrows rose. "Well, I'll be."

Emerging into the rain were none other than Oswald Cobblepot, free of his jacket, walking beside Ruby Sinclair. A man-sized jacket was draped over her shoulders, and her head was bowed. They had their arms wrapped around each other. Helping each other walk.

Slowly, an applause rippled across the crowd. Encouraged slightly, Ruby straightened a bit. She blinked at the sea of clapping people as though she couldn't quite understand what she was seeing. Harvey crossed his arms, smirking in spite of himself. Jim's face betrayed no emotion. Oswald pulled Ruby a little closer as he accompanied her to the ambulance. The crowd parted for them like the Red Sea. Butch found himself clapping a bit too, guilt written all over his face. Tabitha and Barbara just blinked at Ruby, at her black garb and puffy eyes, before turning away.

At last, the pair reached the ambulance. The doors yawned open, revealing a team of experts dressed in white sitting amongst emergency tools. When Ruby saw them, her face went white. Oswald saw it. Placed a hand on the small of her back. She glanced at him with wide eyes.

"It'll only be for the weekend, at most." Oswald licked his lips nervously. "And I promise that you will have everything you need, books and clothes included."

Ruby's eyes gleamed. She knew the necessity of this action. It was just standard protocol. But as she looked at the ambulance's instruments, including gurneys and wheelchairs, she couldn't help remembering Arkham. And what had been done to her there. Ruby's hand, heavy with dark stones, reached out and rested on Oswald's cheek. He leaned into her touch. All the while, their eyes never separated. Ruby swallowed. "Don't leave me there."

Oswald's hand found hers. Knitted their fingers together like dried stalks that made up a basket. "Never." He promised.

Some of the tension left Ruby's shoulders. She squeezed his fingers between hers before dropping her hand. Ruby began to shrug off Oswald's jacket when his gentle voice stopped her. "Keep it." Big, dark blue eyes looked up. Oswald tried to smile even though his insides were still quivering like jelly in an earthquake. "You need it more than I do."

Ruby blinked. "But it's Armani!"

 _I know!_ Oswald wanted to whine. Instead, he took her hand and squeezed it. "There will be another." Reluctantly letting go of her clammy hand, he nodded towards the ambulance. Ruby nodded in reply, turned her back to him...before spinning back. Before Oswald could react Ruby took his face in her hands and planted her lips on his forehead. A silent blessing.

It was brief, no longer than a millisecond, but it still robbed Oswald's already frozen legs of any leftover feeling. He wavered like a drunkard as a blushing Ruby scrambled into the ambulance's waiting belly. Oswald was still standing there, eyes wide and lips parted, even as the wailing ambulance swerved around. Facing the gate from whence it had come, it sped out of the Van Dahl estate, kicking up flurries of gleaming gravelstones in the process. The throng of servants stood by, still watching, even as the wails sank into quietude and the white automobile disappeared into the mist. Oswald stood there, feeling like his head had been stuffed with wool fluff. He cleared his throat. Tried to regain composure despite his spinning skull.

He turned to the servants. They took one look at him and scattered. Running either in the house or the gardening shed. All fifteen of them were gone in the span of a thunder's rumble. Only five people remained in Oswald's domain. None of whom he wished to see.

But alas, a king must perform his duties. Lest the lower lords and ladies develop deadly ideas of rebellion.

Oswald began with the smallest of these duties. Walked up to Butch, preparing a monologue behind his cranium...until he got close enough to see his face. The guilt creasing his brow extinguished all desire in Oswald to take Butch's other hand. Instead, Oswald straightened. "I want you to leave." He said simply. "A week's absence, without pay."

Butch's expression morphed into something akin to relief. "Thanks, boss."

"You have nothing to thank me for." Oswald growled. "I am simply too tired to bestow a more fitting punishment upon you. You know, convincing a friend not to plummet to her assured death is hardly a breezy task." His last words were acidic with sarcasm.

Butch's beefy face adopted the color of a burnt pepper. He swallowed. "Y-yeah, boss. Whatever you say."

Oswald tilted his head towards the gate. Butch marched towards it. Head bowed. Satisfied, Oswald limped towards the police car. His blood boiled with a more intense heat every time he took a step. Tabitha slinked away, glaring at him as she marched off. Oswald glared back with twice the intensity. Barbara hadn't even noticed his arrival. She was trying to flirt with Jim, to no avail.

Oh, Jim. Dear, old friend.

"Jim Gordon. Detective Bullock." Oswald's tone was rimmed with steel. "We have diverse matters to discuss."

Harvey opened his mouth to reply when Barbara piped up, "Can't you see _I'm_ talking with Jim now?"

"I can see that you are disgracing yourself. As per usual." Oswald snorted.

"What did you just say to me?!" Barbara raised her voice.

"Hey, whoa." Harvey held an arm out between Oswald and Barbara. Turned to Oswald. "Um, you okay, Penguin?"

Oswald turned back to Barbara as he answered Bullock. "I will be, once Miss Kean pays the price for her actions."

Barbara scowled. Yet there was something underneath. It was buried, but it was still there. "What actions?"

"For posting a video of Ruby Sinclair without her knowledge, never mind her permission, and turning her into the Freak of the Week." Oswald replied almost candidly. "I'm certain that if you call enough photography stores, someone will eventually display a receipt. And I will bet any sum of money that Miss Kean here was not quick enough to get rid of the camera after she'd finished using it."

Barbara stared at him.

Bullock tried to step in. "Penguin, you ain't got no place to say-"

Oswald held up his hands. "As today's youth say, _whatever_. I have given you a clue. A key to bring justice to a young woman who was wronged. Take it, or toss it out the window. It is no concern of mine." He hobbled closer. Until he and Barbara were almost touching noses. "But let me assure you, Barbara: wherever you end up after today, you can be certain that I will even the score for Ruby's sake. And if she so requests, I will let her do whatever she wants to you."

Barbara's face turned white, then red. "You don't scare me, Pengy." She warned him. "And neither does your little pet." Again, there was something there. A crack in the ice statue that was Barbara Kean. And Oswald relished in the sight of it.

He gave her a mocking little bow before turning to Bullock. "So kind of you to stop by, detective. Did you bring the popcorn? I'm sure it would have been quite the show."

"Knock it off, Penguin." Bullock snapped. "Nobody here likes seeing women kill themselves. I came here on account of a 9-1-1 call. That's it."

"That's it." Oswald echoed with a nasty grin.

Bullock cleared his throat. "Anyway, I'm glad the day had a relatively happy ending."

"I'm pleased to hear it." Oswald waved his words away. "But now that this matter is at a stand-by," he cast Barbara another look, "I would like to know how your search is going."

Bullock frowned. "Search?"

Jim sighed.

"For the creatures of Indian Hill, led by Fish Mooney." Bullock flinched at the name. Oswald loved the sight even as he feigned complete professionalism. "It has been a while since I told you, I understand, but since you have been rather silent on the matter-"

"Look," Bullock leaned in, "if you could keep all this hush-hush for now, I'd appreciate that. The people are still nervous. Getting 'em riled up again might-"

"Fine." Oswald smiled tightly. "But just so we're clear: I want results."

* * *

That night, the Sirens' club was quiet. Tabitha came in at well past midnight, after many hours spent relaxing. She'd partaken in the activities that always calmed her nerves. Killing. Looting. Razing. Mutilating. But home was not as welcoming as she had expected it.

As the front door swung shut behind her, Tabitha shed her blood-soaked leather and let the knives drop. They clanged against the marble floor. Leaving red smears on the mirror-like surface.

The place looked dreary to say the least. Most of the lights were dimmed. There wasn't any music playing. The wine cabinet had been assaulted, with empty bottles strewn about. Dirty dishes piled in the sink.

The place was silent as a tomb. Except for a weird, muffled sound coming from the bedroom.

Every instinct hiding under Tabitha's flesh caught fire. Stealthily, without making a sound, she reached under the counter and extracted her favorite tiger-printed robe. Slipping into it, she made her way towards the noise. She found Barbara hunched over on the bed's edge, hands covering her face. She wore a leopard-print nightgown that warmed Tabitha's heart on sight. She'd always loved that they both loved jungle cats. They were hardly that different from them, in truth. Elegant. Strong. Deadly.

But now, the leopard was weeping. Such a thing should not have been possible.

Tabitha's dark, oily eyes shifted from the weeping woman to the laptop sitting beside her. Given the audio, it didn't take a genius to guess what Barbara had been watching.

Carefully, Tabitha sat down. Placed a hand on Barbara's knee. The muffled sobs continued for a long while. And then, Barbara's garbled voice wobbled through. "I almost killed her, Tabby."

"No, you didn't."

"If Penguin hadn't been there-"

"She might have changed her mind anyway." Tabitha said. "But why are you feeling so guilty? Hers wouldn't have been the first life you've taken."

"But it would've been the first I'd have taken like this. By just...clicking on the mouse a few times." Barbara shook her head. "It was a cowardly thing to do."

"It was necessary." Tabitha countered. "Now, thanks to the proof, we have every other gang in Gotham by our side. So when the time comes, we will be able to strike."

Barbara sniffled.

"Oh, babes." Tabitha sighed. Collected Barbara in her strong arms. The two women rocked back and forth in the orange lampposts' light. Waiting for the dawn to come.

* * *

Sometimes, everything seems different in the morning. Better. Not always. But sometimes.

Ruby woke up before anyone else. Daring a look through the corridors, she hustled out of her room with a bundle of clean clothes and a bar of soap in her arms. Twenty minutes later, she was dressed and clean back on her bed, and the nurses were none the wiser.

"Good morning, Sinclair." The nurse greeted her as she pushed the trolley in. "How are you?"

Ruby stifled a yawn. Brushed some dust off her Star Wars sweatshirt. "I've been better."

"I'm sure." The nurse eyed the knitting needles and balls of yarn sitting on her nightstand. "I'm just glad we padded those things when you came here."

Ruby rolled her eyes.

"Now," The nurse gestured to the table, "I'll leave your breakfast there. Please be sure to eat it."

Ruby nodded. Perching her cheek on her fist, she examined her room as the nurse set out the tray. It was a very nice room, the kind that only true blue-bloods could afford. The chamber was twice the size of hers back home, and the walls were a soft, creamy white. The soft satin curtains blocked out the wan, broken city outside. Oswald's buquets had arrived here almost at the same time as she. White and red roses, of course, occupied almost every corner of the room. 'Get Well Soon' balloons were tied to her bed's post. Her as-of-yet unread books ( _The Chalk Pit_ , _Finders Keepers_ , _The Joy Luck Club_ , _The Stranger_ , and _The Kite Runner_ ) were piled high on the nightstand. The book that Ruby was currently devouring, _The Heart is a Lonely Hunter_ , sat on her lap. In addition to the comfortable bed, Ruby also had a nightstand and two armchairs with a table between them. All in all, it was worth a fortune.

That was why, upon Ruby's insistence, it had been paid for with the black pearl necklace that she had been wearing yesterday. Luckily, the hospital had deemed for only one black pearl necessary to cover the expenses. Ruby had spent a good chunk of the previous evening carefully winding the threads back together, tightening the necklace to fit its smaller number.

Ruby leaned over and sniffed one of the roses, entranced by its scent, when there came a knock on the door. "Sinclair. You have a visitor."

The young woman froze. Then, her hands flew to her wild curls. She tried to comb them in vain before finally willing them to move back. She may have looked like a wannabe surfer, but it felt like a step forward. Her heart racing a thousand miles a minute, she asked, "Who?"

"Bruce Wayne, from Wayne Enterprises."

Ruby stopped. Blinked. "Come again?"

The orderly from behind the door repeated the name. It stubbornly remained the same. To say that Ruby was shocked would have been an understatement. Yes, she and the Wayne heir had remained in contact since that fateful night. But it hadn't gone any farther than text messages, weekly phone calls, and e-mails. Ruby had tried inviting him over to the Van Dahl mansion more than once, only to be politely refuted. Why the sudden change in tone?

Ruby shrugged. Straightened. "Fine, let the prince in."

The door clicked, and in came the richest boy in Gotham. He looked...different from the last time Ruby had seen him. The fine suit and the haircut aside. He looked...older. Harder. Even a bit bruised. Ruby immediately felt some of her coldness towards him seep away. Because now, in the light of day, she saw him for what he was: a kid trying to fill a very large pair of shoes.

She cracked a smile. "Well, look who's gotten big."

"Ruby." Bruce quickly closed the distance between him and the bed. His dark eyes scanned her face. "I saw the news last night. Is everything alright?"

"Now it is." Ruby's smile felt less forced now. "Thanks to Oswald."

She hadn't meant to guilt-trip him, but that was how he took it. Color rose in his otherwise pallid cheeks. "I'm sorry I didn't interfere with this vile video business. I-I was occupied in other matters, and I-"

Ruby's hand on his shoulder clamped his jaw shut. "Kid," she said gently, "no need to apologize. You're only, what, fourteen?"

"Fifteen," Bruce corrected, "in two weeks."

"There you go." Ruby said. "When I was fifteen, my biggest concern was taking my time reading because of how long it took books to come my way." She squeezed his shoulder. "You're doing way more than what any reasonable adult would expect from someone so young. So please, don't be so harsh on yourself."

Bruce bit his lip. Still looking guilty.

Ruby sighed. Let her hand slip off him. Looked away. For a moment, a tense silence hung between them.

She cleared her throat. "So. I'm guessing you know about the video. What it contains."

Bruce nodded. "I did not watch it. I swear it. But I do know its content."

It was Ruby's turn to nod. "If you want to run away screaming, I don't mind. It's happened before."

Bruce looked at her curiously. "Why would I run away?"

"Because I'm an affront to nature," Ruby counted off the insults on her fingers, "a freak, a weirdo, a mutant...all that good stuff."

"Good."

Ruby blinked. Frowning. She looked at Bruce, who in turn was watching her in a very solemn way. It was almost frightening. "If it hadn't been for these 'freakish' powers, then I may have not survived that night." He said firmly. "I owe you a lot, Ruby. I know that I haven't acted that way as of late, and for that I am sorry. If you'll permit me, I'd like to begin making amends."

Ruby stared at him with a set jaw. She felt like he was truly seeing him for the first time. Him as a whole, not the fragmented pieces in the form of e-mails or phone calls. She was witnessing the true essence of Bruce Wayne, and its depth of humanity was almost bottomless. As well as honest.

Ruby took a breath, unsure of how to respond, when her eyes settled on the small table between the two chairs. It had a couple of simple board games sitting atop it. A devious smile spread across her face as she faced Bruce once more. "You can start by giving me a good game of checkers."


	34. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

While Ruby played checkers with the richest teenager in Gotham, Oswald had other fish that needed frying.

Well, _one_ fish.

He spent the entire day going from one shady location to another, all but diving out of his limo the moment they arrived. With the help of Victor Zsaz, who only came under promise of violence, Oswald cornered every gang in the city. Slicing, nicking, punching, kicking. Demanding to know the whereabouts of Fish or any of the other 'monsters'.

He hated using that word, but Oswald had a reputation to uphold. This horrid video business had already caused damage to both Ruby and himself. Nobody had expected Oswald Cobblepot, the terror of Gotham, to shelter one of those unnatural offsprings of madness. Even though sympathy was quickly spreading across the media, Oswald still couldn't allow to be seen as soft. In Gotham, softness quickly became rigor mortis.

Hence, the language he would have given anything to avoid.

He collided his fist against the man's tattooed cheek. Beneath the fleshy layer, he felt teeth loosen. Nice. "Where is she?!" He yelled again.

"I don't know!" The tattoeed man yelled for the third time. "I-I only heard that most of the freaks left town!"

Oswald paused. Thought back on Ruby's relocation plan. For the first time, he felt grateful for it. At the time, he hadn't thought much of this activity. Seen it as a hobby and little else. Now he saw the vitality of it: because there were fewer of them, Fish wouldn't have as many supernatural allies. Sure, she could try rounding up some of her former supporters. But who would pledge allegiance to a dead woman?

Oswald grabbed him by the tattooed throat. It was slippery with blood. He stared deep into the man's watery eyes. His own were as hard as glass. "If I find that you have kept the truth from me-"

"I didn't, Mr. Cobblepot! I swear!"

Oswald gave him a long look. Then, very softly, he spoke. "Very well. If you answer this last question honestly, I will spare your life."

The tattooed man nodded quickly.

"If you don't know where Fish Mooney is, can you tell me who might?"

"Yes!" The man replied. "Try Barker! Benjamin Barker, down East Avenue. A real freakshow lover. If anything weird gets under his nose, he'll know!"

Oswald smiled tightly. "Thank you." Letting go of the man's throat, he stepped back. Nodded at Zsaz. As he turned around, walking towards the limo, the man's yelps were quickly quieted by a single gunshot. Oswald had kept his word. His conscience was clear.

* * *

Ruby leaned back in her chair, grinning at the score. "Two victories for you, three for me." She announced. "Seems more than fair."

Bruce gave a slight chuckle. "Yeah. I haven't played checkers in a very long time. Alfred is more of a chess man."

Ruby held out a platter of golden-brown dates to him. With a word of thanks he took one. Popping it in his mouth, he watched her carefully as she, in turn, looked out the window. Scratching the back of her neck and crossing her legs at the ankles. She seemed so...normal. Just an average woman in her mid-twenties. Completely unremarkable in appearance and normal in behavior. No one would have ever suspected her of having such gifts.

And yet.

Ruby's big eyes shifted back to him. Bruce quickly lowered his gaze. The young woman chuckled. "Don't worry, kid. Can't blame you for looking."

Bruce cupped his hand over his mouth. Spat the slimy pit into his palm, and hid it in his handkerchief. Cleared his throat. "I apologize."

Ruby shrugged. "At least you're not filming me. I swear, I don't think I'll be okay with cameras for a while." She brushed some cracker crumbs from her sweatshirt. "But...if there's anything you want to ask me, go ahead."

Bruce's eyes gleamed with gratitude. "Um...do you know why you were altered?"

"I was born deformed." Ruby replied immediately. "My parents are both in the fashion business. They'd have rather died than have a monster for a kid. So they hid me from the world for as long as they could. But the older I got, the more restless I became. I began making noise on purpose." She looked away. "Just for a shred of attention. So...they just...sent me to Arkham. Just like that. With everything that I owned in a little suitcase."

Bruce was quiet for a moment. His pale hand reached across the table. Found hers. A smiling Ruby squeezed it in thanks. Found the image amusing, considering how small and soft his hand was. She noticed bruises and cuts across the knuckles. As though he'd been fighting.

Ruby quirked a brow. "I see you're a tough one."

Bruce let go of her hand as he nodded. "I want to become stronger. To defend myself...and, if needed, this city."

Now, both of Ruby's eyebrows flew up. "Check out the big hero here." Her hands rested on her crossed knees. "Well, you're gonna need a really cool superhero name. And an outfit, and a lair..." She began counting requirements from her fingers. "And gadgets, a cool car, a cape, a grappling hook-"

"And a sidekick." Bruce added. A twinkle in his eyes.

Ruby considered this. "Hmm...you have Alfred, so I suppose you already have that." Ruby shrugged. "Oh, well. I could never leave Oswald anyway."

Bruce blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. He leaned forward. His expression serious once again. "Why do you serve him?"

Ruby's expression grew tense. "Rich boy says what?"

"Why do you serve the Penguin?" Bruce repeated. "He's a crime lord. Eventually, he is going to be caught and sent to prison. And you with him."

Ruby shrugged again. "So be it."

Bruce scowled. "But why? He's a criminal!"

"Completely?" Ruby demanded. "All the time? Is he a criminal when he eats his dinner? Drinks his wine? Watches television? Huh?"

Bruce frowned.

Ruby sighed. Ran a hand through her pixie-cut hair. "Look, kid," she worked out a few knots, "I know how you must see outlaws. It's not surprising. What you went through wasn't just unfair. It was the worst sort of unfairness that a kid should have to endure. But what you need to understand is that, yes, there are people who work outside the law. Thrive outside it, in fact. But you know what? For some, being a criminal isn't all they are. If Oswald treated me the same way he treats his victims, do you really think I'd stick around?"

Bruce opened his mouth, then thought better of it.

Ruby nodded. "Yeah. I know what he is. I'm not blind. He's a crime lord. But he's also one of the best friends you could ever have."

* * *

'Freakshow lover' didn't come close to describing Bejamin Barker.

As his bodyguard kicked the door down, Oswald was greeted by the overwhelming stench of formaldehyde. Coughing and hacking, he removed a delicate silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and held it over his nose. He lurched inside, his ebony cane slapping against the tile floor. The bodyguard remained just outside the door. Looking around caused nausea to build inside Oswald.

Hanging from the ceiling were stuffed alligators, laughing down at them with glazed eyes and open jaws. Large glass containers occupied every one of the hundred shelves upon the walls. A cursory glance revealed...organs. Yellowing eyeballs. Whitish-pink brains covered in greasy film. A pair of bluish lungs still pulsating horribly, as if somehow able to breathe. In larger containers, Oswald was horrified to see, were deformed babies. Some were conjoined twins. Others had too many limbs, like overgrown centipedes. Others had none at all, like giant worms. One baby, he saw, had two sets of eyes, one pair sitting right where the eyebrows would normally be. Strangely enough, all of these infants looked like they were sleeping. Peaceful.

He knew he certainly wasn't. Not right now.

Desperate to get out of here as soon as possible, Oswald raised his voice. "Benjamin Barker!" His voice echoed across the room. For a moment, there was nothing. Oswald's temper ran out like sand in an hourglass. "This is the Penguin, the King of Gotham! If you do not come out now, I shall burn this place to the ground and-"

"WAIT!"

Oswald spun around. A sunburned man with wild, spikey dark hair and thick goggles covering his eyes came clamboring down a ladder. He kept shouting the word, 'wait' with every rung he touched. When he finally reached the ground, his flip-flops slapping against the tiles, he grabbed Oswald by the shoulders and shook him. "Don't burn my babies!" He shouted desperately. "They sleep so well in the cold. No, the heat wouldn't do no good."  
Oswald's icy-blue eyes flickered back to the infants in the jars. Shuddered.

He shrugged off the man's filthy hands and straightened. Looked into the man's...goggles. "I shall not harm your 'babies' if you give me what I seek."

"Oh, yeah! I get plenty of that!" Barker grinned. He began pointing at specific items in sight. "I got all kinds of organs, from all kinds of animals...stuffed birds, necklaces made out of teeth, voodoo dolls made from real human skin-"

"I want Fish Mooney." Oswald cut him off.

Barker stopped. Looked back at him with shock. And just...stayed like that. Frozen. Oswald glared at him to no avail. Slowly, Barker reached up and lifted his goggles away from his eyes. They were mismatched in color: one was forest-green while the other was a cloudy gray. Looking at them reminding Oswald of that night under the bridge. A lump formed in his throat. Clearing it, he glanced away.

Barker broke out into a grin. His teeth looked like small planks of rotting wood. "Ah, you're talking about those sublime specimens of evolution. The news has been yapping about it for weeks. I heard your friend is one of them, yes?"

Oswald's jaw tightened. "That is not what-"

"You two have joined together."

Oswald blinked. Then frowned. "What?"

"I can see it." Barker was nodding now, as if in tune to a song only he could hear. "I can see something...peculiar in you. Yet not enough to think you're one of them. But I can see a bit of it."

Oswald sighed. Glancing back at the door, he felt a small kernel of relief. He could see his guard's shadow, and nothing else. And Zsaz hadn't even walked Oswald to the door. Upon seeing a small horde of homeless people, he'd decided to have some fun.

Which meant only Barker would know. Perhaps giving some information first would grant him data in return later.

"Yes." He went on to explain the events of that awful night. Of him storming towards the bus, intent on revenge, and finding an ugly piece of his past come back to haunt him. Ruby defending him, but the bald freak gaining the upper hand and preparing to crush Oswald's head like a melon. And the result.

Barker nodded slowly, rubbing his chin with two sooty fingers. When Oswald finished, he nodded. "Hmm. Yes, I can see that happening. Have you two fused again since that time?"

Oswald glared at him. "My friend just tried to kill herself. I would rather not risk pushing her into such questionable activities."

Barker shrugged. "Have it your way. But I think you should give it another go."

Oswald leaned forward. His eyes narrowed. "And why is that?"

"Because your physical prowess would be combined with hers. It would be like fighting together, but closer." Barker grinned again. "Could come in handy, you know?"

Oswald didn't answer. Scratched the back of his neck.

"Lemme ask you something." Barker requested. "How did it feel when you were mingled?"

Oswald looked away. Studying the dirty tile beneath his well-polished shoe. Barker didn't mind the wait. He began humming to himself, bouncing on his heels, and cleaning his nails with the blunt end of a match. Oswald barely noticed any of this. He was too busy delving into the foggy recollection, which had been locked away by weeks of anger. But now, his brain felt like an egg. Cracked open, with memories leaking out.

He cleared his throat. Barker got the hint and stilled. Oswald frowned pensively, his thin eyebrows knitting together. "It was...strange, to say the least. It felt as though...who I am...who Ruby is...vanished. We became...something new. Some _one_ new. And it felt completely natural." He swallowed. "Like it had been meant to happen."

Barker smiled. It was different from the other ones. Soft. Gentle.

Oswald swallowed. Reached up and traced a finger under his eye. The one that, for just a few minutes, had been Ruby's eye.

"You two could be immensely powerful together." Barker said softly. "And...sorry to ask, but did you experience any...visions after that? Memories?"

Oswald grimaced. "How did you know that?"

"Ah, that's easy." Barker chuckled. Gesturing with his hands, he explains. "From what I can guess, when something like that happened, it's like mixing two paints together. Ya can't separate them afterwards. Not completely. Maybe after some time, the other color fades, but for a while, you hold a little bit of each other."

Oswald nodded slowly. His mind widening like a creaking gate. As it yawned a bit more, it revealed something else. Something that should have been on the forefront the whole time. He turned back to face Barker his defences back up and running. "Alright, Mr. Barker. I answered to your question. Now you must answer mine: where is Fish Mooney?"

"I don't know." Barker shook his head. "Trust me, if someone like her had visited me, I'd have announced it on Twitter."

Oswald scowled. "I'm sure the GCPD would appreciate your facilitating their job." Reaching into his pocket, he extracted a card. Holding it out, he waited until Barker took it before dropping his hand. That card had cost money. Having it fall on this filthy surface would have been laughable. "If she does present herself, contact me. A handsome reward shall await you." He began to turn around when a grimy hand landed on his sleeve.

Oswald glared daggers at Barker, who held up his other hand apologetically. "I, uh, don't want a reward. But, um, I do want somethin'."

The Penguin waited. Biding.

"If ya really do wanna rejoin with this Ruby specimen...if ya wanna fight together...I wanna help."

Oswald quirked a brow. "Nothing is for free in Gotham. State your price, sir."

"I wanna study it." Barker said. "I wanna document the way you fuse, how you fight, and the developments. I promise I won't try any drugs on you or anything." He added quickly upon seeing Oswald's reddening face. Oswald forced himself to calm down. Slowly, he began to nod. The benefits rose like lotuses out of swamp water. He straightened again. "Very well. But if you say one word of this to anyone-"

"I won't." Barker promised. "But, uh, can I just suggest a name for your union?"

Oswald scowled. "It had better be good."

Barker nodded perkily. "It is." He straightened. "Your surname's Cobblepot, and this girl's is Sinclair. So, I recommend," he gestured with his hands, " ** _Cobblair!_** "


	35. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

It was a relief when the day's duties finally ended, and Oswald was able to pocket the profits. Half a million dollars in just over twelve hours? A result of drug trade, robbery, and fraud? Very nice. It was pocket change, but still nice.

As the limoscene glided across the broken streets, destination set in stone, Oswald handed the dense envelope to Zsaz. The man sitting across from him was covered from head to toe in congealing lifeblood, as though he'd taken a bath in the stuff with Elizabeth Bàthory. Oswald had been forced to open all of the automobile's windows just to avoid gagging. Forcing a smile, he shifted in his fine leather seat. "Have fun, Victor?"

"Oh, yeah, boss." Victor grinned. Rolling up his sleeve, he displayed three shiny new cuts on a path of pink, feverish-looking flesh. Pointing at each one, he explained. "This one I got from this homeless old drunk who got my attention when he asked for change. I said he'd just buy more booze with it. So he got mad. Actually whacked me with his cane. So I crushed his head under my boot." Zsaz grinned from ear to ear. "And these two are from his two buddies who tried to help him. I gutted one and stabbed the other one in the privates." He chuckled. "Boy, I love Saturdays."

"Yes." Oswald said cordially. "Murder is like a fine wine: it should be savored down to the last drop." He waved his hand dismissively. "During the week, with our duties on our shoulders, such pleasures become harder to indulge in."

Zsaz pointed at him with a bloody finger. "Amen to that." His dark, frog-like eyes landed on the silver tray loaded with liquors. Oswald remembered buying that set. He hadn't been convinced until Ruby had pointed out that it included not one, but _two_ bottles of his favorite brandy. Reading the assassin's thought, Oswald spoke up. "Help yourself, but do not touch the eighteen-year-old brandy. That is reserved for me."

Zsaz nodded once before attacking the bottles. Rolling his eyes, Oswald rested his chin against his fist. Stared out the window. The crumbling buildings passed him by. People bustled down the sidewalks, their heads bowed and their bags held close. Once or twice he saw a common embezzler run down the road, grabbing someone's suitcase or purse along the way. Heavy, dense clouds spread across the heavens. They looked like gray cotton-balls rolling across a pallid tablecloth. Seagulls shrieked in the distance. A few peaks in an alley revealed combustions of violence.

Just your average day in Gotham.

But not for the King.

Standing a little straighter, Oswald looked down at the gift in his hands. Beneath the wrapping paper and cardboard shell was something that he'd spotted and had instantly seen Ruby wearing. His heart skipped a beat. Beyond the squares of the open windows, the hospital loomed into view.

Twenty minutes later, he was pushing the hallway's doors open. The scent of disinfectant and medicine hit him like a sucker-punch. Oswald limped through the doorway, searching for the right door. As he did, he noticed the sterile surroundings. Everything was white: the ceiling, the walls, and the waiting chairs nailed to the tiled floor. A few trolleys were positioned just outside the doors, loaded with medications that made Oswald's skin crawl. Several I.V machines were huddling in a corner, ready for use. The only evidence that this was still reality and not some alternate dimension were the framed photos of idyllic landscapes. A wheat field in summer here. A bamboo forest in rainfall there. They were the only doses of relief Oswald got.

At last, Ruby's door appeared before him. 112.

Barker's words echoed in his ears. He ignored them.

Taking a deep breath, Oswald tucked the gift into the folds of his coat. Then, he reached out and grabbed the doorknob. It was as cold as a snowball. Twisting it sent the door inward, revealing the softly-lit room. The first thing he saw was Ruby sitting cross-legged on the bed, her nose buried in _The Joy Luck Club_. At the squeaks she looked up. Surprise quickly melted into happiness. She grinned like a kid on Christmas morning. Oswald let the door close behind him, smiling in return. Folding the page that she'd been reading, Ruby leapt out of the bed. "Oz!" She wrapped her arms around him. Oswald returned the gesture, sighing with contentment. They remained like that for a minute before pulling away. Ruby ran a hand through her curls, pushing them out of her vision. "I...I wasn't sure you'd come. Visiting hours end in an hour."

Oswald shook his head. "I apologize. I intended to visit sooner, but," he shrugged, "business took longer than I anticipated."

"Don't worry." A dark cloud passed behind Ruby's eyes. "I feel so ridiculous. I'm...I'm sorry."

Just for a second, Oswald didn't understand what she meant. When he did, a solemn sensation fell over him. He rested his hands on her shoulders. Ruby's eyes flashed down at them before returning to his stare. "Ruby, listen to me." Oswald instructed firmly. "You have nothing to feel remorseful for. Others do." When Ruby nodded, Oswald felt his heart lighten a bit. He managed a small smile. His hands lowered slightly so that they were positioned on her biceps. A loose embrace. "You do not know how pleased I am to see you. You look marvellous."

Ruby gave a tiny smirk. A familiar spark entered her dark blue orbs. "Oz, at my best, I've only ever looked 'decent'. But points for effort, really." Nevertheless, she brushed some dust from her sweatshirt. Oswald chuckled. "Is it a stupid question if I ask how you are fairing?"

Ruby's smirk widened. "Now that you're here, I'm doing even better." Tears glimmered in her eyes. "I...I never got to tell you how thankful I am for what you did for me back on the roof." She shook her head. "Oz, I felt so scared, and lost, and alone. But when I saw how much you cared, how hard you were trying..." She reached up and wiped the corner of an eye. "You made me feel like I _wasn't_ alone. So, thank you."

Oswald pushed a stray curl out of Ruby's face. "There are others who care for your safety. You are _not_ alone."

Ruby's face lit up. "I know. Bruce Wayne actually came to visit me this morning."

Oswald blinked in surprise. "Truly?"

"Truly." Ruby nodded. "Our conversation got a bit dark, but it was still very nice to see him." She gestured to the table. "We even played some checkers." It was only then, when he got a glance at the room, that Oswald realized that something was wrong. "Wait..." He looked about, but could not find the object of his search. They were not on the nightstand, the table, or even on the floor. Turning back to Ruby, he spoke. "I had a dozen white roses to this room just this morning! Did they not arrive?"

Ruby's gaze relaxed. "Oh, they did. I just gave them away."

"What?!"

"To the other patients. They need them more than me." Ruby pointed. "I kept the largest one, though." Oswald followed her finger and, too, relaxed. Indeed, there was a single white blossom, its petals transparent in the watery light perched in a water bottle near the window. Ruby winked at him. "I'm keeping the balloons, too."

"You'd better." Oswald winked back at her. As he shifted, he felt the square bulge brush against his chest. Straightening, he reached into his folds. "I, er, um...I sort of gave myself the liberty to..." He held out the package, unable to continue. Ruby gasped with delight upon seeing the gift. "Oz..." Taking the gift with one hand, she used the other to trap Oswald into a one-armed hug. Oswald felt his stomach turn itself inside out. It was a strangely pleasant feeling. "But you didn't have to!" Ruby protested.

"I wanted to." Oswald insisted. Grinning like a World Cup Champion, Ruby sat down and made quick work of the wrapping paper. When she lifted the box's lid and peered inside, she gasped a second time. This time, it was a gasp of wonder. Slowly, reverently, she reached inside and lifted the present up. A simple silver chain hung from her fingers. At the end of the chain was a rough, unevenly-cut gem the size of an apricot. Translucent. A vibrant, green-blue that matched the spring sea. It was rough and uneven, but Ruby still looked at it the same way a priest might with the original Ten Commandments.

Oswald beamed at his friend's expression. Unable to hold in the joy bubbling up his throat, he spoke. "It's an acquamarine. The jeweller told me that it hasn't been polished or cut; this is exactly the way it was found. Cleaned, of course, but uncut. The acquamarine-"

"-is the birth stone for March." Ruby spoke. Gently, she traced it with her free hand. She went on. "It was believed to be the treasure of mermaids. Sailors kept them as talismans of good luck, fearlessness, and protection. It's also known as the stone of eternal youth and happiness. The clearness of the stone is due to iron oxidates within the stone's chemistry." She recited this naturally, like a nursery rhythm, and grinned all throughout the description.

Oswald felt a little flabbergasted at his friend's knowledge, but he didn't mind it as much as he might have. He brushed a stray hair of his back into place. "Well, I see this stone requires no introduction from me. I'm so pleased that you like it."

"Like it?" Ruby echoed incredulously. Looked back at him. "Oz, it's..." She shook her head. "I have no idea what to say." A single tear ran down her face. "No one's really given me jewelry before."

Oswald raised his eyebrows. "Not even Father?"

Ruby smiled sadly at the mention. "Master...he gave me his mother's emerald earrings. But only after she said she didn't want them anymore. Not quite the same, but I never expected him to." She sighed. "He'd already given me a new life. All the jewels in the world can't compare to that." Ruby shook her head to clear it. A couple of tears traced her cheeks. She smiled up at Oswald. Held up the acquamarine. "I will treasure this always." Without another word she tied it around her neck. Fingered it as it rested against her sternum.

Oswald chuckled. The ripples it sent along his body had his tired knee screaming. Wincing, he made a beeline for the free chair. Ruby's eyebrows scrunched up. "Sorry, I should've offered you a chair right away!" Oswald all but crashed in the chair, panting and waving her apology away. He gave her a tired smile. "It's-it's alright." Ruby grabbed his hand and squeezed it. The comfort warmed him.

The pain subsided. Oswald leaned back. Gasping. Closing his eyes. The exhaustion that had been building up throughout the day fell on him like a ton of bricks. For a long moment, he wondered if he'd be able to make it back to the limo later. The tread down the hallways suddenly felt miles long. Oh, well. He didn't need to think of that now. For a long, peaceful moment, all was quiet.

Then, Ruby spoke up. "Um, Oz?"

Oswald's sleepy eyes cracked open. Ruby held him a plastic cup of water. Sighing with relief, he accepted it with a word of thanks. As he emptied the cup in one gulp, he felt Ruby's eyes on his knee. He moved it consciously. Ruby bit her lip. When he'd finished hydrating himself, she spoke again. "Would you...um. I mean, remember when I fixed those cuts on your back?"

Oswald nodded. "Yes, I do. Why?"

"Well..." She jerked her nonexistent chin towards his crooked knee. "Maybe I can fix that, too."

Oswald blinked. Stared at her.

Ruby looked down. Raised her hands. "If you want, I mean."

Oswald was still for another moment. Then, he leaned forward and took Ruby's hand. It was a bit calloused from years of labor but well-kept and very warm, like a roll fresh from the oven. He squeezed it in his smooth, cold hand. "Ruby," he said sincerely, "I'm touched by your offer. But this pain is more than it seems. It is brand of Fish Mooney." Ruby didn't miss the subtle twitch in Oswald's eye as he spoke the name. "She did this to me. But this damage made me rise up, stronger and smarter than the rest. It has been a constant reminder of what the world can do to you, should you lack the proper attentiveness." Their fingers intertwined. Icy-blue met indigo. "It's helped me hone my skills and become who I am today. Thus...thank you, but I'm fine as I am."

Ruby slowly nodded. "You're better than fine. You're a king." She reached out and embraced him again. Oswald placed a hand on her back, closing his eyes.

The following hour and a half passed in a flash. Bending one of the lights hanging over her bed, Ruby morphed her hands to make the most realistic shadow puppets ever cast against a wall. Oswald spoke of his concerns regarding Fish Mooney. Where she was, and what she was planning. All of Ruby's comforting words could not break such a barrier. Thus, Ruby tactfully asked after Edward Nygma. Oswald immediately brightened and spoke vividly of him. He spoke of how he'd visited him just the other day, and how he'd had a sweater mailed to Arkham. Ruby offered to make Nygma some biscuits, remembering all too well how unholy the food was.

"When I developed my powers," she shared, "I had to give the cooks regular shows like this one in exchange for proper meals." She winced as her hands morphed, taking on the semblances of animals. But not quite.

Oswald patted her back. "I suppose it was a better alternative to...another nature of favors."

Ruby shuddered. "God, I know. If Barbara had to do any of that when she was there, I can almost excuse her behavior."

"I cannot." Oswald's hardened tone made Ruby look up. "What she put you through cannot stand. If the law does not punish her, I will."

Ruby's hands returned to normal. One of them reached out and pushed a lock out of Oswald's eye. The gesture captured his attention. "Oz, I know Barbara can be a...a..." she paused. "...Not nice. But I at least want to learn why she did it. If I don't like what I hear..." She shrugged.

Oswald smirked. "Spoken like a true criminal."

"You would know." Ruby replied as she mirrored his expression.

Oswald chuckled. The discussion he'd been meaning to bring up all afternoon blossomed on his tongue. "Er, in fact, I-"

A knock on the door startled them both. Spinning around, they saw the same nurse that brought Ruby her meals. She smiled apologetically at the two friends. "I'm sorry, but visiting hours ended ten minutes ago."

Ruby's face fell when she looked at the clock and realized that she was right.

Oswald felt like someone had pulled the rug from under him.

The nurse gestured for Oswald to follow her. "Come, I'll escort you out, sir."

"But-"

"Visiting hours resume tomorrow from ten a.m to five p.m." The nurse gestured again. "Come on." Oswald sighed. Rose from his chair. Ruby rose, too. Placed a hand on his arm. Oswald suddenly got a twinkle in his eye. Giving her another embrace, he whispered in her ear, "I'll be back at midnight." Then, just like that, he was gone.

It took all of Ruby's energy to keep from swooning.

* * *

The last trace of daylight faded into the distance. The sky went from deep purple to indigo to black in a matter of minutes. Timid stars began to wink out from their celestial perches.

From the shadows, mismatched eyes watched them emerge. One brown, one blue.

A heart filled with sorrow twisted.

"M-ma'am?" A shy voice called.

The eyes' owner turned her head. Her black mohawk, streaked red, formed an ebony outline against the sky. One of her subjects quivered nervously. One of the 'monsters'. Capable of sprouting gills on a moment's notice. Such a sweet boy, though. "Um. We, uh, we found something. I-in the papers."

"Oh?" A warm female voice, sweet as honey, purred from the shadows.

"Yeah. It's a bit old, but..." Webbed fingers held out the folded newspaper. The woman took them. Held them up to see. A slow smile spread across her face. The boy gulped. "Um, we...we think it's the same woman that was there with the Penguin that night, but-"

"Good." Fish Mooney smiled at the photo displaying the black-haired young man. "I hope to see my little penguin again before I die."

* * *

Midnight arrived, and so did Oswald. Ruby spotted him outside her room, right where she'd been nodding off. She hadn't bothered to change out of her attire, and nor had he. When she heard the familiar thumping of his cane against the tiles, her heart began to beat a little faster. Standing, she greeted him with a hug. "Hey," she whispered, "how'd you get passed the alarm?"

Oswald chuckled as though her question were the silliest thing he'd ever heard. "My dear, I wouldn't be the King of Gotham if a locked door challenged me."

Ruby shrugged. "Fair enough."

"If I may, then," Oswald asked, "how did you get out? I was under the impression that the patients' rooms were locked at night."

Ruby gave him a look. "I can turn myself into a puddle, remember?"

Oswald blinked, then nodded. "Oh, yes. I apologize. That will still take some getting used to."

"You will." Ruby promised him. "But what was urgent enough to make you take the risk?"

Oswald inhaled. This was the biggest hole he'd have to jump over, and his legs felt like they were made out of glued-together popsicle sticks. "I...er, perhaps we can discuss this in a more private setting?"

"I-look out!" Ruby shoved him against the wall and threw herself against him. In the span of about a second, her body thinned out and spread until it resembled a bed's sheet. Completely covering Oswald, right down to his well-polished shoes, Ruby concentrated on the wall's sterile white. Tried to copy it. To her distress, it came and went like a faulty light-bulb. Thankfully, the flashlight-weilding old nurse walking down the hallway wasn't looking for ugly walls. She zipped right passed them, her heels clacking against the tiled floor. Once she was out of sight, and her footsteps faded, Ruby sighed. Pulled away. Oswald watched in amazement as Ruby's wide, sheet-like body folded in on itself. Thickening. Regaining the bone, muscle and sinew it had temporarily forsaken. Within seconds, Ruby had returned to normal. Grinning.

Oswald blinked. Swallowed. "Wow. I...that is rather impressive."

"I know." Ruby chuckled, looking down at her hands. "I'm not that great at camouflage. I can turn into anyone, but I can't turn into things, you know? Even the puppets I made earlier looked no more like animals than origami." She shrugged. "I'm fine with it, honestly."

Oswald began walking down the end of the hallway. Ruby followed. At first, she walked three steps behind him. As a servant would do. But when he turned back and looked at her, something flashed in her eyes. "Oh, right." She sped up until they were walking side-by-side. He felt encouraged by this new closeness. Even more so when Ruby shyly reached out and took his hand. Feeling warmed, he spoke up. "So, before we were so bruskly interrupted, where would you suggest we go to talk?"

Ruby grinned. "I'm sure you'll love it, given your nickname."

Oswald gave her an amused look. "Oh, really?"

* * *

Ten minutes later, most of which were spent in an elevator listening to a god-awful tinkling that sounded barely better than your average ringtone, they arrived in the basement. Chuckling, Ruby shambled into the darkness. Oswald followed. A faint, familiar scent invaded his nostrils. "Where are we?"

"Someplace with no cameras. And," Ruby turned back to wink at him, "it's a penguin-friendly environment."

Oswald chuckled as they walked in the dimness. The place was cool and humid. "Oh? Is it some sort of underground Arctic exhibit?"

"Nah." Ruby chuckled. She stopped and gestured to...whatever was in front of them. "It's...a...pool!" Her excited words bounced off the walls like tennis balls. Oswald finally realized what this scent was: chlorine. A vague, distant memory of nearly being drowned in a pool by bullies swam into his consciousness. He turned to her. "Are you certain?"

"Yep! I heard some of my neighbours yapping about this place. They do underwater gymnastics in the morning, but other than that it's unused." Ruby sounded so excited Oswald didn't have the heart to turn her down. He wondered when was the last time she'd ever taken a dip in the pool. If she ever had. Ruby spun around and grabbed his arm. "I'm gonna turn the lights on! I wanna see the sharks!"

Oswald chuckled. "Be warned: sharks bite."

"So do I." Ruby snidely replied. Her voice was already drifting away. "Just give me a second..."

Indeed, a second later, there came a loud K-CLUNK, and with it a flash of light. Oswald's eyes widened as the enormous, sapphire rectangle lit up like a bonfire. Beneath the perfect, glassy surface, various lights shone like miniature suns. A pleasant humming noise began to fill the air. Oswald leaned forward, staring into the water. Transfixed. It was so clear and cool, like a mountain spring. Just to satsify his curiousity, he dipped his fingers into the trasparent liquid. Delicious shivers ran up his arm. He giggled in spite of himself. Oh, if his enemies could see him now!

Straightening, Oswald brushed his hand dry on his pants' leg. "All right, Ruby." He called. "You've seen the sharks...or lack thereof. Now, if we could please-"

"COWABUNGA!" A flash whizzed past him. A second later, there came a watery splash. The front of Oswald's coat and pants were dripping. With a cry he stumbled backwards, his hands surveying the damage. The smell of chlorine was already wafting from his clothes. Damnit, he'd just gotten this suit dry-cleaned. Ruby, still fully clothed with the exception of her feet, broke the surface. Her blonde-brown-gray hair was slicked back like a gangster's. Laughing, she hopped up and down in the water. Her face was the very picture of glee. "Oh, yeah!" She cheered. "This is better than the jacuzzi back at home!"

Oswald chuckled. Crossing his arms, he laughed in his palm. It was incredible how much younger he suddenly felt. How much more innocent. He watched Ruby going under and rising back up again, shaking her head like a dog and wiping her eyes. Laughing and spraying water. She was just like a child at bath-time. That was all the conviction he needed that she had, indeed, never dived in a pool before. The thought made him a bit sad. But still glad that he could witness this.

Ruby's cough snapped him out of his thoughts. Getting some water out of her ears, she chuckled again. "Wow. Those guys were right: it's amazing!"

Oswald said nothing. Just shook his head.

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Please tell me you're not just gonna stand there."

Oswald quirked a brow. "What are you implying?"

In response, Ruby sprayed him. He yelped as he sidelined the acquatic attack. "Don't you dare!" He roared.

"Come stop me, Pengy!" She jeered.

"Oh, that is it!" Oswald dropped the cane. "You asked for it!"

Ruby stared at Oswald for a second. Something in her expression flitted. Blushing, she looked away. A moment later Oswald, this time draped in only an undershirt and his boxers, gently eased himself in. The icy water quickly numbed his knee. A small relief. Sighing with relief, he quickly leaned back. Closed his eyes in contentment. Ruby watched him, a tender smile on her face. When at last he straightened again, his ears and nose pink from the cold, Ruby chuckled. "Why, look! A penguin and a shark, swimming together! Most unorthodox!"

Oswald smirked. Sinking deeper into the clear water, he began humming JAWS' two, infamous notes. Ruby laughed as she sent a jet of water at him. "Hey, _you're_ the penguin! _I'm_ the shark! Stick to it!"

"I have never been what you would call civilly obedient!" Just to prove his point, he sprayed her with twice the force. The two engaged in an acquatic war, diving beneath the surface to escape the other's attacks, dragging the other down, and sending enough spray flying to make any geyser field weep with jealousy. At last, the laughter and adrenaline died down. Ruby, sopping wet and shaking with excitement, slowly lost her smile. She took a breath and kicked her legs upward. In a minute she was floating. Just by watching Oswald do it once? He was impressed. Oswald copied her. For a moment, they were silent. Starfish on the ocean floor.

At last, Ruby spoke. "I wish the Master was here. He would have loved something as crazy as this. And he really liked swimming."

Oswald gave a gentle, yet pained smile. His father's kind face floated before his eyes like a ghost. "I miss him as well." He hesitated. "Was he a champion swimmer or something?"

"Yeah, when he was around our age." Ruby smiled. "I polished all of his medals, even though he kept them in the sock drawer." Her smile disappeared. "When his health started going downhill, he tried swimming again. Just to have a highlight in his life, you know? But..." She shook her head. Her short hair rippled around her skull like seaweed. Oswald drifted closer to her and grabbed her hand. Still staring up at the ceiling, patterned with glowing blue veins, he spoke. "We gave him justice, Ruby. Those who harmed him can't hurt anyone anymore."

"I know. That's the one thing that keeps me from crying sometimes." Ruby inhaled shakily. "Well that and...and you, basically."

Oswald smiled secretly. The two resumed their standing positions. Swam towards the ledge. They draped their arms across the wet cement block. Ruby's wet hair was still mostly slicked back, but a few stubborn wisps were now framing her round face. Oswald didn't want to imagine how he looked. Probably like a drowned rodent. Hopefully, Ruby didn't notice. He finally spoke. Tried to ease them into the discussion he had been wanting to enter since that afternoon. "You hardly need me as a source of strength. You are already a force of nature."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "More like 'luck of nature'. Anyone could've been injected with that formula."

"But it _wasn't_ anyone." Oswald argued gently. "And...I believe that, we are connected. Because, er, without me, you never would have...fused your strength with another's. Right?"

Ruby blinked. Turned to face him. Her expression was a mixture of fearful and longing. "What're you saying?"

Oswald closed his eyes. "I...met with someone today. Benjamin Barker. An enthusiast in all this abnormal. And he was able to 'see' that you and I had merged."

Ruby's eyes widened. "Really? Wow, good eye."

"Yes." Oswald agreed. "And he said that, should we choose to try amalgamating again, we may contact him. He wishes to study the process, excluding any use of drugs. He was very clear about that part."

Ruby's expression clouded over with thought. She twiddled her fingers together. Bit her lip. The inside of her chest felt like a plant made of both fire and ice was growing within her bones. A part of her wanted to dive into this project. Mingle with Oswald as they had for those few, thrilling, terrible minutes. What had followed had been the darkest period she had endured since Master's death. But did that necessarily mean that it would always be like that? Surely not. Strange had been...well, strange, but he hadn't been sadistic. He never would have added such an ability if he hadn't thought that she could benefit from it. When he'd said that he saw all of his experiments as his children, he'd meant it. In his own unstable, warped way.

Ruby inhaled deeply. Closed her eyes. "I'll only go along with it...if you want to." She opened her eyes to see Oswald's surprise. Ruby pressed on. "Once, right before I met your father, I..." She swallowed. "Someone...did something to me, and never asked my permission." Tears prickled her eyes at the memory. "What we're talking about is way more intense. It...it's all-consuming. So I won't do it unless you're one hundred percent willing." She stared him dead in the eye. "I'd rather die than hurt you."

Oswald's own eyes teared up at the raw sincerity in her words. At her concern for his well-being. No one, with the exception of his mother, had ever shown him this much ardency. He nodded.

Ruby's pupils dialated. She nodded in return. "O-okay. So, uh, here I go." She began to close the distance between their faces. "One...two...three." Their foreheads touched.

There was a flash.

When it faded, there was one figure where there had previously been two. It wore Oswald's undershirt and Ruby's sweatpants.

Cobblair pushed away from the ledge. Blinked hard with their mismatched eyes. One indigo, the other icy-blue. They blinked hard, then looked down. A wobbly, ghostly reflection greeted them. A round, chinless face with thin lips and a beak-like nose. Pale skin with a hint of peach. Pixie-cut hair the color of night was slicked back with water, with a few rebellious curls tickling the ears. Cobblair held their hands out for inspection. They were Oswald's, but the carefully-kept nails were Ruby's. As an afterthought, Cobblair reached around their neck.

The acquamarine necklace was still there. An anchor.

Cobblair's wide-eyed expression slowly broke into a wide grin. Shaky laughter rolled out of their mouth. Tears ran down their cheeks, mixing with the chlorine. Cobblair hugged themselves, rocking from side to side.

"We did it," they whispered in an androgynous voice. "We did it."


	36. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Cobblair stood, the cold water tickling the edge of their ribs. Panting from the exercise they had been engaging in for the past half-hour, they trembled with glee. Wet curls hung over their mismatched eyes. Orbs that saw everything. With a flex of their arms, Cobblair turned them into weapons: one was a bazooka, the other a rocket launcher. The metallic scent and weight were enough to confirm the reality of the sight. Cobblair cackled in delight. Eyes sparkled bright. "Wow!" Their voice was a bit more feminine than it had been before. "I could never do this before!" The voice then deepened as their facial expression became one of smugness. "No surprise. Together, we are unstoppable."

With a grunt, Cobblair bent their arms again. Skin, muscle, and sinew replaced metal, rubber, and fuel. Grinning, Cobblair hopped up and down in excitement. As they did, their form dissolved into the water. The clear blue became a thick mud. Then, the mud gathered at the edge. Right where the ladder was. Two arms sprouted from the muck, seizing the bars. The moment they did, they solidified. Hoisting itself up, a humanoid figure exited the pool. The mud trailed magnetically behind it. Sustaining it. The figure watched, fascinated, as its form stabilized. Globs of the sludge trailed over Ruby and Oswald's clothing, dragging them along. Colors returned. A shape took hold. Mud dried into flesh.

Cobblair grinned down at themselves. Whistled. "My, my." The more masculine voice drawled. "Fusion has such peculiar fashion taste." Much like the first time, Ruby and Oswald's attire had fused almost as well as their bodies had. Oswald's silk trousers, now slightly wrinkled, rested snugly on Cobblair's feminine hips. Above, the fine jacket was draped over Ruby's Star Wars seatshirt. The acquamarine necklace rested snugly on their collarbone. Hugging themselves, Cobblair reached up and shook some of the moisture out of their hair. Catching a reflection of themselves, they let out a childish giggle. "You look cute with your hair soaked in chemicals." The voice deepened as it chuckled. "As do you." Their embrace tightened.

A loud _clunk_ echoed across the damp chamber. Cobblair spun towards it. Icy-blue and indigo eyes widened at the shadowy figure behind the door, waving a flashlight through its glass screen. Panic grabbed Cobblair by the throat. Distracting both parties. There came a flash and twin grunts. Oswald and Ruby hit the tiled floor in opposite directions. Wincing and rubbing their heads, they pushed themselves up. They looked down at themselves, then each other. Dozens of questions cropped up in both of their minds, but approaching footsteps forbade them from being spoken. Only one word made it between them: " _Hide!_ " Ruby scrambled to her feet. Grabbing Oswald's outstretched hand, Ruby pulled him to his feet and handed him the cane. "Let's go!" She whispered.

"Agreed." Oswald hissed. He felt in his pocket. Yep, it was still there.

They shambled towards the exit, grateful for the dimness, when a sudden flash illuminated the door's glass windows. "Make sure you cover the entire perimeter!" A man shouted.

"Oh, for the love of-" Oswald gave Ruby a push. "Go! Hide!"

Ruby looked back at him worriedly. "But-"

"Do not worry." Oswald assured her. "I will spring when the oppurtunity arises." He waved his hand at her. "Away with you!"

With a groan, Ruby crumbled into dust. It flew through the air as if aided by wind. Oswald ducked into the shadows. In that moment, the door swung open. A security guard entered his line of vision. A flashlight was in his hand, cutting shards into the darkness. The beam edged just a centimeter from Oswald's shoes. Then, it darted away. The guard hurried towards the pool. Oswald held his breath. His hand burrowed in his pocket. Okay. Good. He just had to make sure that no one else was around.

Until then, he had to make himself as small as possible.

Meanwhile, Ruby materialized in the women's locker room. Craned her neck. Distinct voices seeped in from between the bricks. Getting closer. Ruby glanced about, looking for a hiding spot. Joy! She caught sight of an open, empty locker. Squeezing her eyes shut, Ruby felt her body fold in on itself like origami. The door to the room opened. Now, she was no larger than a doll. Quickly scurrying inside, Ruby nearly closed it all the way. The sliver of splace shone brightly. Heavy footsteps slowly approached. Ruby covered her mouth to keep her gasping quiet. Suddenly, a pang slit through her head.

A flash.

Ruby squeezed her eyes shut. Wincing beneath her fingers.

She saw Oswald's feet. Heard his quiet gasps. Looked down at his body as he shambled into the corridor. A flutter ran through her as she realized what she was seeing: the exact same thing that he was. The security guard, flashing his torch against the doors, seemed oblivious to Oswald's presence. That is, until Oswald came up behind him and buried a switchblade in his throat. The security guard tried to scream, but Oswald smacked his bloody hands over the man's mouth. Quickly finished the job. But then, there came a loud clattering noise. "What?!" Oswald's voice yelped. The image shifted so that Ruby saw the dying man's twitching foot. Just an inch from it was a bucket, promptly knocked over.

"Hey!"

Ruby blinked to find herself back in the locker. Gasping, she heard the security guard beyond the metal door. "What the...? Benny! What was that?!" Ruby caught sight of a gun being extracted from the man's utility belt. He began to run towards the noise. Towards Oswald.

"NO!" A locker's door slammed against its neighbor.

The security guard twisted to find some sort of expanding, leathery sheet enveloping him. It was the last thing he ever saw.

* * *

Oswald leaned against the hospital's back entrance. Trying to regain control of his ventilation. His hands and cuffs were wet and sticky, his switchblade safely stowed away in his pocket. Adrenaline was still racing through his veins. Heightening sounds and feelings. Intensifying colors. Like the mesmerizing blue of the pool just a few feet away. He stared at it, hypnotic, as a means to calm down.

Oswald didn't notice the hands resting on his shoulders until they squeezed.

He spun around, ready to slay, and instead opened his arms. Ruby dived into them. "We are so invisible!" She chuckled as they embraced, swinging from side to side. Ruby didn't want this hug to end, not even following their union. But alas it did. Oswald smiled softly at her. The tender look in his eyes pinched her heart. He reached out and pushed a stray lock out of her eyes. It burned where his fingers touched her face. Satisfied, he took her hand. "Come."

"Where?" She asked as they approached the door.

He eyed her. "You were to be released tomorrow at any rate. I shall simply call the hospital tomorrow and explain that I took the liberty of taking you back myself."

Ruby's eyes widened. "But my stuff!"

"I'll have Gabe go back for it in the morning. I promise." Oswald grinned back at her. "For now...let's go home."

 _Home_. The most beautiful word in the world. Casting one last wayward look at the swimming pool, determined to memorize it, Ruby followed Oswald into the night air.

* * *

A soft wind streamed in from the open window. Played with the fine red drapes. The incoming sunlight, filtered through the cloth, filled the bedroom with a cherry glow. The faintest of noises entered with it. Birdsong. Distant traffic. Faint police sirens. Voices. Dogs barking. The room still faintly smelled of incense, provided by Ruby while Oswald had crashed the moment they had entered.

The atmosphere was serene. Pictureque. Perfect.

Ruby opened her eyes with a smile on her face. The room was lighted enough to erase all doubts that morning had come. But the curtains were still dense enough to provide a pleasingly dim air. Like they were hidden away from the rest of the world.

Rubbing the crust from her eyes, Ruby sat up. The soft pillows and silken sheets embraced her lovingly. Running a hand across them, remembering all the times she'd ironed them especially for the Master, she smiled. Never in a million years had she thought that, one day, she herself would sleep in their angelic embrace. Ruby ran a hand through her blonde-brown-gray hair. Looking down, she saw that she was wearing the Master's black-and-gold robe. The same one she'd seen Oswald wearing more than once. Blushing, she glanced at the chair pushed against the desk. Her clothes were still lying in a damp heap. Oswald's were in a similar state on the rug.

God. Getting the chlorine out of the fibres would be a nightmare.

Ruby quickly pushed these thoughts away. Didn't want to ruin the moment. Turning around, she saw Oswald lying on his side. Just a few inches away from her. Dressed in black silk pajamas, with his hair forming inky spikes against the pillow, he was the perfect mixture of rugged and refined. His pale face was the very picture of peaceful, with his beak-like nose flaring each time he took a breath. His thin lips were slightly parted.

More than anything, Ruby wanted to touch that beautiful face. But respect for its owner and shyness proved to be excellent restraints. She limited herself to pushing some locks away from his forehead. Just for a second, she let her fingertips rest on his cranium. So firm, yet the skin was so soft. Blushing all the way up to her roots, Ruby lay back down. Watching him. Trying to ignore the wild, powerful pounding in her chest.

Oswald's eyes flew open. Ruby quickly closed hers. Feigning sleep. She felt the mattress shift as Oswald stretched like a satisfied cat, yawning all the way. Making a funny smacking noise with his lips, like he was already imagining breakfast. Pretending to yawn herself, she smiled up at him. He was sitting up. His head blotting out most of the light. Achingly lovely. The edge of his lips rose. "Good morning, dear."

Ruby chuckled. "G'morning, lovely." Yawning, this time for real, she sat up with him. Cracked her neck with two swift movements. Oswald grimaced playfully as he leaned back in the cushions. Sighing with contentment. Ruby mimicked his movement. For a moment, they were both quiet. But it was the best kind of quiet. The kind where warmth and companionship filled the void. Ruby stared up at the canopy. At the hundreds of embroidered flowers. If only moments of time could be so easily captured. Fossilized.

At last, Oswald spoke. "It feels like a different world from yesterday."

"Doesn't it?" Ruby smiled at him. "We left a skid mark on Gotham last night."

Oswald scoffed. "It hardly needed another. But of course, ours is the best." He grinned at her, reminding her of the innocent young man he'd been in the cemetary. God, had it only been just under a year ago? Oswald took a breath, then turned to her. "We should get up, I have a matter to attend to at noon."

"Ooh, another drug ring?" Ruby asked. Her heart rate sped up at being in the loop again. "Or is it more tax evasion? Last time you got your cut, it was over two million dollars."

"Oh, yes." Oswald remembered with a smile. "That was a wonderful deal. But, no. This time, it concerns further interrogation regarding the whereabouts of Fish Mooney." His voice adopted a slight edge. Ruby said nothing. He continued. "I keep thinking about it. Why didn't she kill me? Yes, you were there to shield me," he reached out and took her hand, "but the Fish I knew had no issues letting innocents die if it meant getting her way. So why didn't she use my position to her advantage?"

Ruby squeezed his hand. "I wish I knew." Seeing Oswald's lost expression, she felt a new strength rise within her. Sitting up, she took his face in her free hand. Icy-blue met indigo. "But I _do_ know this: whatever happens, whenever she attacks or how, we'll be ready." Oswald blinked, clearly moved. His surprised expression morphed into one of determination. He nodded. "Yes, we will." He sealed the deal with a hug. Ruby gladly responded. With one last squeeze, Oswald pulled away. "Come. Let's get ready. I will inform Gabe of his delivery the moment we head downstairs."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Yeah, won't he be thrilled. Forced to pick up the stuff of a servant."

"But you're not."

Ruby stopped. Blinked. Felt like someone had just pushed her off the bed without the shadow of a warning. Turning to Oswald with big eyes, she questioned him without opening her mouth. Oswald smirked at her. Took her hand in both of his. "Ruby...I don't want you as my servant anymore, but as my equal."

Ruby couldn't speak. Couldn't think, for that matter.

Oswald continued. "From the moment I met you in the cemetary, you have done nothing but show me kindness and compassion. Only my mother ever cared about me as much as you do. And I know without a doubt that if it hadn't been for you, I would still be cleaning up after Grace and her brats. Or, worse, dead." He squeezed her hand. "Which is why I ask...would you like to remain here, with me, not as a servant but as an ally?" A pause. "A...friend?"

Ruby stared first at their hands, then at him. At his icy-blue eyes, now filled with tenderness. Tears of joy blinded her. With a small cry she dived into his arms again, this time hiding her face in the crook of his head. Oswald gently hushed her. Stroked her hair. But inside, he was brimming when he heard her whisper, "Yes."

Deep inside both of them, Cobblair smiled.


	37. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Six months passed.

Spring's sweet coolness rapidly deepened into summer's scorching heat. Combined with Gotham's permenantly damp conditions, the resulting weather made everyone feel like they were living under a turned-over porridge bowl. All it took were a few feet outside their respective homes to get people sweating rivers. Every public place had the air conditioning turned up to almost frigid temperatures. Those who could afford it took cabs everywhere they went. Those who could not had to make due with paper fans and bottles of water.

Oswald Cobblepot, however, scarcely noticed the unpleasant climate change. Between his manhunt for Fish Mooney, continued pleas with the GCPD for aid, and training with Ruby in Barker's lab, he barely got a free moment.

And neither did the scientist in question.

"HI-YAH!" Cobblair's katana-arm cut through the air. The flying airplanes with faux grenades taped to their bellies were severed mid-flight. Harmlessly hit the ground as a shower of gunshots fell upon the fusion. A protective flap of skin sprung from Cobblair's back. Grew massive in size as it draped over its owner. Bullets pocketed the fleshy shield, yet the one behind it did not bow. Instead, they charged towards towards the attackers. They swung their arms, now both changed into sickles. The robots holding smoking guns fell like card houses. Cobblair stood over their ruins, gasping and struggling to stand. Their sickle arms rippled as they straightened, skin replacing metal. Both limbs were now covered in motor oil. Wiping their forehead, they turned to the clapping scientist.

"Marvellous!"

Within Cobblair, both Oswald and Ruby rolled their eyes.

Barker looked up from his notes. "Well, that's all I have for today."

Cobblair smirked. In that moment, they looked a bit more like Oswald in their arrogant smugness. "What, no more thugs wielding frying pans?"

"He was dumber than a sack of hammers," Barker admitted, "but hey, he worked cheap. Now, would you mind separating? There are a few things I would like to show you."

Cobblair sighed. Annoyed. "Fine." Their form suddenly began to glow, as if every atom that formed their body had burst aflame. Barker covered his eyes. Through his fingers he saw Cobblair, now only a figure of light, split down the middle like a piece of dry wood. The two broken pieces rapidly took form. All of this took place in...what? Three seconds? Four, tops. But it was such a mesmerizing display, done so casually, that it took Barker's breath away.

The light died. Cobblair was traded for their creators. They were both sweating and wavering, but seemed satisfied at their handiwork. Stretching and popping bones, they shambled towards their seats. How _naturally_ they handled this, how _calmly!_ Perhaps it had something to do with the trust each bestowed on the other? What if...

Barker shook his head. That would come later.

"Fascinating." He muttered. Grinning all the way. "Simply fascinating!" Ruby wiped her forehead with the damp towel she'd brought. Took a sip of her iced apple juice. Stealing a glance at her friend, who was gingerly massaging his knee, she held it out to him. Oswald smiled. With a nod of thanks he took a grateful swing. Once his parched throat was hydrated, he turned to Barker. "What, pray, is so 'fascinating' this time? It seems that you find something newly amazing with Cobblair with each schedueled appointment."

"That's because, with each schedueled appointment, their abilities - _your_ abilities - improve!" Barker ended the sentence with a laugh. Drinking from his own glass, he quickly put some slides in place. With the push of a few buttons, the laboratory darkened. A few more buttons had a blank wall light up. The first slide displayed two X-rays, lying side by side. With the skins little more than dark blue outlines and black backgrounds, one's attention could only be drawn to the bodies' interiors. Namely, the multicolored organs, thread-like bloodstreams, and spotless bones.

"This," Barker pointed at the image, "is the result of the tests I had you do during our first appointment. Remember?"

"How could we not?" Ruby called out, "My head felt like an orange in a mechanical juicer!" Oswald cracked a smile at the comparison.

"For science!" Barker added defensively. "But, well, anyway, I had all of your vitals documented. When you two fluxed, I simply expected a combination of your various biological functions. For instance, the fusion-"

"For the umpteenth time," Oswald rolled his eyes, "they are called 'Cobblair'. A combination of our surnames."

"Yes, right, forgive me." At this point, Barker's irritation was beginning to appear. "Anyway, Cobblair's physical form did indeed prove my hypothesis true. Beyond the bone structure being almost exactly split in half, with Mr. Cobblepot's from the ribs up and Ruby's from the waist down, but many of the internal fuctions are bifercated as well. Their dental work, for instance, is divided between both of yours. Their fingerprints and tongue print, also! Split right down the middle."

"Yeesh," Ruby grimaced. "I pity the guy who'd find our hair on a crime scene."

"Indeed!" Barker pointed at her. "But this sort of division is limited to the body. Here," he slipped the next slide, "is Cobblair's gait." The two watched, transfixed, at the twelve seconds of their union walking across the room. It was so simple, so mundane, yet the movements caught their attention. They shared a glance just in time for Barker to speak up. "See? It holds characteristics of both! It has its shoulders hunched, much like Mr. Cobblepot, yet the arms swing and the hips sway, like Ruby."

Ruby rested her cheek on her fist. "And that means...?"

Barker grinned at her. In the light of the projector, it was both a pleasing and creepy sight. "It means that the mind and the body, in this case, are shared differently. You two maintain specific parts of your bodies when you become Cobblair. But by this walk, and other mannerisms, I can assume that your minds blend together." He raised his eyebrows. "Am I on the right track?"

Oswald and Ruby were silent for a moment. Ruby ran a hand through her curly hair, flashing a nervous smile. Barker stared at them. Feeling like he was talking to a junior high couple going to prom. "Hello?" He asked. "What's the dealio?"

That snapped them both out of their trance. Oswald gave him a look. "'Dealio'? Really?" Barker shrugged. Sighing, Oswald delicately dabbed at his red face with his silk handkerchief. "To be perfectly honest...and I speak of myself, by the way," he cast a look at Ruby, who was now watching him, "when the two of us fuse..." He stopped. Unable to find the words. Or, perhaps, simply unwilling to use them. "It feels as if we have always _been_ Cobblair."

Ruby's eyes widened. Looked down.

Barker scratched his ear. "Do you, in that span of time, forget who you used to be?"

Oswald opened his mouth to answer, but Ruby's voice rang through. "You forget you were ever alone." He glanced back at her. Smiled.

"Amazing." Barker scratched his whiskered chin. At last, the buried quandry blossomed. "Though I wonder, is this exclusive to you two, or would this occur should amalgamation transpire between Ruby and someone else?"

Ruby straightened. Her jaw tightened. "Someone else?"

"Yes!" Barker suddenly barked with laughter. "This could be another branch in our research! If Ruby could fuse with someone else, if only for a moment-"

"No."

Barker blinked. Stared at Ruby. "But-"

" **No**." Ruby rose. Her fists were flexing at her sides. The skin on her shoulders was rippling like a sheet in the wind. "Oswald is the first and only person I've ever fused with, and I intend to keep it that way."

Oswald's eyes softened.

"If I ever were to fuse with someone else," she continued, "then it would be my own choice, on my own terms. End of story." She sat back down. Her posture was as stiff as a scarecrow's. Oswald quickly reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. Ruby's tension lessened slightly. Her hand covered his. A slightly tense silence hung over the lab for a moment. Then, Barker scratched at a red rash on his neck. "Um, okay, er..." He swallowed. "I'd say that's a good point to stop, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I would." Oswald rose. Reluctantly slipping his jacket over his sweaty shirt, he collected his cane. He turned to the videocamera sitting on one of the tables, its red light blinking steadily. Carefully, Oswald halted the recording and pocketed the camera. He held his hand out to Ruby, who gladly took it. "See you next week, Doc." Ruby called over her shoulder. Barker raised a hand in response, already distracted by another experiment. Oswald caught a whiff of himself as he moved, and winced. Ruby directed a lowered voice to him. "Why don't you just wear clothes like this?" She gestured to her baggy, ACDC shirt and gray sweatpants. "They're just gonna get all sweaty and gross anyway, so you might as well go casual."

Oswald snorted. "'Casual' is the type of adjective that must never be applied to the king of Gotham."

"Fine, you blockhead." Ruby playfully rolled her eyes. "But if one of your suits gets ruined, don't come crying to me."

Oswald squeezed her hand. "Yes, I will. You may soothe my soul with another silent movie marathon, if you wish."

"Definitely." Ruby brightened. "Oh! Forgot. They're showing _Dracula_ on TV tonight. The one with Bela Lugosi. Interested?"

"It depends." Oswald replied. "Does it contain elegance, Gothic elements, and bloodshed?"

"Yes, yes, and _very_ yes."

"Then yes, I am interested." Oswald winked at her as the laboratory's back entrance yawned open. Blinding, searing light spilled all over them. Humidity hit them like a wet slap. Grimacing, Ruby shadowed her eyes with her hand. Oswald opened his umbrella over his head. "Wonderful." He muttered. "The one moment Gotham recieves any sunlight, and it has to abuse us."

"Just wait a minute, it'll pass." Ruby assured him. She looked about as her eyes got used to the brightness. A road, balanced by dense cement pillars, rose above their heads. The conundrum of traffic was distant, but still deafening. Above it, Gotham's skyscrapers divided the sky into The ground on which the lab was situated was a desolate one. With the exception of a few abandoned building, which now housed dozens of homeless people, and a few shrubs, there was nothing but dirt down here. The perfect location in which to enact such unusual activities such as theirs. Footsteps entered Ruby's hearing range. She sighed. Then raised her voice as a large, hulking figure appeared. "Hey, Gabe. Thanks for the wait."

Gabe was relatively new. He'd worked for Oswald several times in the past, especially during the latter's first ascent to Gotham's dark throne. He was a tall, wide made with a deeply lined face. His hair was always combed back, and his heavily-lidded eyes constantly gave off an aura of sleepiness. The man had been there for Oswald when poor Mrs. Kapelput had died, and it was something that Oswald could never forget.

What Ruby couldn't forget was the man's former employer: Frankie Carbone.

Swallowing, she gave him a nod as his head blocked out the sun. Providing some much-appreciated shade. Gabe was chewing away at a corndog. Crumbs were stuck to his sweaty face. Nodding in return, he turned to Oswald. "Ya ready to go, boss?"

"Yes." Oswald nodded. With a quick glimpse at Ruby, he added, "And drive this time. Miss Sinclair is feeling a bit tired."

Ruby smiled softly at the gesture.

As clouds once again swallowed up the sun, Gabe nodded. He turned towards the awaiting limo. Ruby handed him the keys. With the push of a button and a chirpy beep, the doors unlocked. As Oswald climbed inside, the cool air tickling his damp flesh, he spoke. "And the chore I assigned you with?"

Gabe settled in the driver's seat. Cracked his knuckles. "All finished, boss."

Oswald wasn't satisfied. "Did he learn his place? Or will he continue insisting that his earnings are his own, and he need not share?"

Gabe sniggered. He reached into his pocket and held something up. Ruby grimaced when she realized what it was: it was a bloody Achilles' tendon.

Oswald, on the other hand, giggled. "I will take that as a yes." Leaning back in the leather seat, he made a dismissive motion. "Now, drive. I'm anxious to get home and clean myself up."

With a mere nod, Gabe put the car in gear. Gravel crunched beneath the tires. Then came the smoothness of a road beneath them. Above their heads, faint thunder rumbled. As the sky darkened, the scent of leather cut out the stench of open sewage that the street provided. The nausea already subsiding, Ruby mimicked Oswald's posture. Noticing his wince as he shifted, Ruby lay a hand on his knee. Just for a second, the veins beneath the skin glowed. Beneath the fabric of his fine trousers, there was a faint luminescence. Oswald sighed in relief and thanked her with his eyes. Ruby blushed and shrugged nonchalantly. He may have refused her offer to heal his knee, but that didn't mean she could ease his pain on occasion.

Yet there was more to it than mere physical discomfort. Ruby could tell. There was a darkness in those icy-blue eyes. Rippling across the brilliant irises like traces of black ink.

Ruby gently took Oswald's hand. It felt damp and clammy in her own. Oswald blinked at the contact and looked at her. "Oz," she said gently, "is something the matter?"

Oswald's eyes widened slightly. He quickly shook his head. Looked away. "No, not at all." He tried to force a smile. Ruby wondered if it felt as queasy as it looked. "I'm simply tired, as well as famished. Would you like to stop for lunch someplace?"

"I'd love to, as long as it's not Olive Garden." Ruby replied. "But, really. Please don't lie to me, Oz." She gave an ironic chortle. "I mean, my God. We literally just shared a body for an hour and a half. Don't you think we're past keeping secrets?"

Oswald's expression cracked like melting ice. Sighing, he nodded. Ran a hand across his coal-colored hair. "I'm sorry."

Ruby squeezed his hand in response. This seemed to encourage him. "Why didn't she kill me?" It didn't take a genuis to understand whom he was speaking of. "We were completely at her mercy. Fish Mooney is a vicious creature. She doesn't distinguish between her prey and the one that gets in her way. So why did she let us fuse? Why did she leave?" He rubbed his eyes. "I mean, I understand why. She could hardly have expected such an outcome. I know I didn't."

Ruby bit her lip.

"But why did she leave? Whatever shock that might have sprung forth myst have been easy enough for Fish to get over. So why?" Oswald shook his head. Turned to look out the window. Ruby stared at him, feeling the terror radiating from his every pore. Just as she had felt it, albeit dimly, within Cobblair. She squeezed Oswald's hand again, this time with both of his. Oswald turned back to her. His eyes glimmered with fearful tears. The sight pinched Ruby's heart, yet she forced a smile. "Well, I know this: whatever she tries, she'll have us to deal with." She scooted a little closer so that Oswald could see how serious she was. "I'll protect you, no matter what."

"Don't be foolish." Oswald cautioned. "Fish will kill you if you prove too stubborn an obstacle."

"I know." Ruby had peered into Oswald's memories over the last few months. Sometimes during their union, sometimes afterwards. She had seen enough to make the notion of confrontation worthy of goose-bumps. "But I'm willing to accept that outcome." Oswald stared at her, at a loss for words.

* * *

After a quick lunch at a lasagna joint, Oswald had a long, relaxing bath. Using the salts that Ruby had gotten him last month as a gift, and taking particular care in choosing his attire. After nearly ten minutes of sorting through his wardrobe, he at last settled for a black suit with a teal tie and spats. Then, as an afterthought, he tucked a white rose in the breast pocket. When Ruby saw it, her smile was warm enough to melt frost.

Freshly bathed, her hair was still damp around her face and ears. She had changed in an indigo, loose-collared turtleneck that reached her waist. Beneath it, she wore black pants patterned with bright blue flowers. Pinned to the loose collar was a white rose. It was like a shining star in the night sky. Ruby grinned at him as she quickly dog-eared her book. Rising from the armchair, she drank in his appearance with a whistle. "My, my, Cobblepot." She chuckled. "You look like a million bucks. Nygma's gonna be blown away."

"I hope so." Oswald chuckled. "Though hopefully nobody will attempt to steal my coat the moment I enter."

"Then just wear the cheap one. I tell you every time, but nooo, you've got to look your best 24/7." Ruby chuckled even as she 'complained'.

Oswald smirked. "Guilty."

Crossing her arms, Ruby kept walking until they were only a few feet apart. Sensing his nervousness, she was quick to distract him. "So. I've got three tasks to do in your stead, right?"

"Actually, two." Oswald corrected her. "I called Mr. Orosco before getting ready. He agreed to our offer, so those documents can go back in the vault."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Really, the guy owns a friggin' coffee shop chain. Who would have thought he was actually buying that kind of pornography?" She shuddered. "I swear, if one of your men hadn't been caught seeing that stuff-"

"We would not be gaining nearly a million dollars in cash today." Oswald interrupted. "I told him my silence is for sale. He bought it, and I will give it. End of story."

Ruby smirked. "Speaking of which, you want me to punish our man? I mean, I know he's the reason we're getting the money, but..." She trailed off, looking unconvinced.

Oswald nodded. "Yes, go ahead. He may have led to this profit, but he did nothing but destroy whatever semblance of dignity he had. Honestly, he had no respect for this workplace, in particular the storage closet you found him in."

Ruby sniggered. "Goody." Rubbing her hands together, she continued ticking off the mental list. "And the money laundering?"

"Too slow." Oswald rolled his eyes. "We have been waiting for three weeks now."

"I know." Ruby replied. Raised her eyebrows. "You want me to give them some...motivation?"

Oswald grinned. "If you would be so kind. And finally-"

"I remember that one." Ruby chuckled. "The computer viruses. I know. Three discs of those, and anyone who tries to hack our security system will get a three-day blackout." She sniggered at the image. "I should know: I'm the one who thought of it."

"Indeed, I owe you dinner for that." Oswald straightened. "Okay, so I'm leaving my empire in good hands. While I go to the crazy farm." He sighed. "If Ed wasn't such a good friend..."

Ruby didn't speak. She never did, when it came to Edward Nygma's supposed friendship. Really, what had he ever done to deserve Oswald's attention? When Oswald had left Arkham Asylum, Edward had slammed the door in his face. Since then, he'd been too caught up in his pathetic vendetta against Jim Gordon to so much as call Oswald. In over a year and a half, Edward had made no attempt to contact Oswald. Not even when the kingpin had begun to visit him, always bringing a gift along.

If it had been up to Ruby, that murderous riddler could rot in Arkham. But of course, it was _not_ up to her. And she didn't have the heart to make it so.

That was why Ruby turned to where she knew the present was: in the chimney. Logically, no one would think to look there. Not amongst the ashes and burnt logs. Elongated arms scavanged through the burnt debris until they found their prize. Once they returned to their owner, Ruby bent down and blew the dust away. She held the package out to Oswald. "Here ya go. Hopefully, it'll take him longer than a second to solve it."

"Oh, come now." Oswald gave her a look. "It's supposed to be one of the most difficult ever crafted."

"But from what you've told me, Nygma makes Sheldon Cooper from _The Big Bang Theory_ look like a blithering idiot. So, yeah. I think he'll crack it quickly." Ruby winked. Oswald trapped her in a hug that she gladly returned. He rubbed her back. Smiling softly against her shoulder. "Thank you." He whispered. "Without you and Edward, I wouldn't know what to do."

Ruby squeezed her arms around his middle. "You'd be fine." She assured him. "A bit more nervous, probably. But you'd give everyone a run for their money." As they pulled away, she forced a smile despite her inner shell of worry. "Go on. If you're lucky, you two will be able to have the visiting room for yourselves."

"Yes." Oswald backed away, his cane thumping against the marble floor. "I do hate sharing." He gave her a little bow. "Farewell, my friend. I shall see you in a while."

"That you will!" Ruby called after him just as the door closed. But as his uneven footsteps faded, Ruby chewed on her lip. Dark thoughts of Fish Mooney and Edward Nygma churned within her skull. Who, she wondered, would prove to be the most deadly?


	38. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Six hundred and fifteen days. That was how many days had passed since Edward had been dragged in here. Since he'd last felt the sun on his face, or filled his lungs with fresh air. All the passtimes and attempted escapes had faded along with his enthusiasm. Each day followed the next, with little difference between them.

Only one thing gave him the strength to get up every morning.

Especially in these past six months.

A beam of watery sunlight trickled in Edward's face, forcing him to open his eyes. He stared up. There was a small rectangle of sky in the otherwise solid cement wall. Within it, he'd seen the seasons change. Like seeing the world through different filters. Or maybe he'd really just been seeing different worlds.

That got him thinking.

How much of Gotham had changed in his absence? Reading the newspaper was prohibited if you wore a striped uniform. Same went for watching the news. Normally, that was just as well. Most of these brain-dead imbeciles hardly knew what was going on in here, never mind outside. But Edward was above them. He was above them all. He shouldn't have to put up with the same half-hearted, cold treatment.

But he would have almost taken another godforsaken game of 'duck, duck, goose' over this unending boredom. Edward had read everything in the asylum's pathetic excuse for a library, ten times each. He'd devoured each outdated National Geographic and every old, yellow-paged dictionary. He'd even taken to reading them upside down, just to pass the time. He'd spent hours playing chess by himself, after wasting three weeks in teaching his 'friends' how to play. Or at least, trying to. But Sharon was too jittery to stay focused on such a difficult game, Norton was simply stupid, and the split personality guy (Edward had forgotten his name, which was normal considering the man had seven different names) was unpredictable. Sometimes, the dominant personality would beat him easily. Another personality just insulted him. A third had a tendency to eat the pieces.

Hence, Edward spent his time alone. Alone with his memories and thoughts.

Most of the latter were focused on the present, rather than the past. The past was too awful to think about, especially when Edward considered that all the bullying in the world would have been worth being freed.

No. His thoughts rested on the items neatly positioned on the cardboard box he used as a nightstand. Six items were sitting there. A tin can of biscuits, now empty. A cashmere sweater the color of pine needles. A large chunk of holly blue agate. A dense book focusing mainly on riddles and brain-scratchers. Edward had only read it twice, careful to preserve its perfection in this squalid place. A fountain pen. A hand-woven scraf with his initials stitched at the bottom.

All gifts from Oswald. Edward couldn't help wondering, though, if he'd actually mailed these packages or had had his servants do it.

Almost immediately afterwards, he regretted the thought. Oswald Cobblepot had been nothing but kind to him lately. Even though Edward didn't deserve it. The least he could do was show the man gratitude. But all the same, he couldn't stop thinking...why?

There came a loud knock. Edward twisted around to see one of the million faceless orderlies that came and went like aches. This was a guy, young and fresh, who apparently liked stealing the female patients' undergarments. Five women had complained about these thefts right after he'd appeared. Couldn't be a coincedence.

"Hey, cop killer." The guy was saying. "You got another meeting with Cobblepot." He began unlocking the door. "C'mon."

Speak of the devil. Edward scrambled to his feet, suddenly feeling self-conscious. After a certain incident in the shower some time ago, Edward had been cutting down his bathing time. He didn't bathe for three days in a row, now. Four if he could help it. His ripe, vinegary body odor crept up with every movement he took. Oh, mercy.

"Yes." He said quickly. Hurrying. "Lead the way...er, Peter?"

"Patrick." The guy corrected.

"Patrick, right." Edward gave a foxlike smile. "You won't last the month."

In response, Patrick shoved him ahead. They walked down the dim corridor that reeked of disinfectant. Noises could be heard behind the doors. Murmurs. Screams. Sobs. Once, they had upset Edward. Now, they slid right off him like water off an otter's fur. The room at the end of the hall beckoned him.

Soon enough, the two were seated on opposite ends of the table again. There were two guards stationed at both doors, but none of them were paying attention. One guy was even playing Candy Crush on his phone.

Edward's nut-brown eyes slithered towards his visitor. Oswald looked too good for the place, as always. Not for the first time, Edward noticed something different in him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was there. Yet he seemed to be normal. Oswald was impeccably clean, smelling like a salty seaside breeze. Edward could smell it from across the metal table. Oswald's black hair was impeccably spiked, his beak-nosed face serene. His black suit, complete with a bright blue tie and a white rose in the breast pocket, was so well-ironed that it could have been made from crispy paper. He looked...happy. Without him.

Edward just stared at the man he'd nursed back to health. Words abandoned him. As had whatever courage he'd had in social interactions. Oswald had anticipated this. "Hello, Ed." His greeting was warm. "How are you doing?"

Edward held out his hand, palm down, and wiggled it from side to side. Fifty-fifty.

Oswald shrugged. "Understandable. Things have been a bit rough for me as well." He bent over to the side, reaching for something on the floor. Edward stared at him. Flabbergasted. How could Oswald even think of comparing their situations? Here Ed was, locked up and filthy, growing bored out of his mind, while Oswald got to frolick free. What could he possibly have to complain about?

Oh, right. Fish. It was so easy to forget things that don't directly involve you.

Cursing Oswald removed other items from the bag, searching for the present. These items included a few photos that he'd picked up from the store before coming here. Curiousity guided Edward's hands towards the envelope, where colors peaked out. Deft fingers slipped inside. Gently pried the papers out. The contents reached in his chest and squeezed his heart.

All three photos concerned Oswald and a young, very plain-looking woman. The first showed them on the ferris wheel. The wind was playing with their hair and grins decorated their visages. Just enough of the vast horizon was shown between them. The buildings looked no larger than matchboxes, the roads thin ribbons. The second showed Oswald in a gold-and-black robe, munching on popcorn while sitting cross-legged on a sofa. The white glare of the television washed over him. Illuminating his surprised, amused look at whomever was taking the picture. Judging by the hand coming up behind the camera, waving playfully, Edward could take a guess. The third was the simplest. It was just the two of them looking at the camera, smiling with their eyes rather than their mouths. Oswald was the one holding the camera, apparently, while the young woman - Ruby, that was her name - was hugging him from behind, looking absurdly happy.

Edward felt bile rise in his throat. He whipped the photos around so that only their white backs were visible. The nausea didn't subside.

Oswald finally rose, a carefully-wrapped gift in his hands. When he saw the photos, his expression darkened. "Oh, uh-"

"Sorry." Edward pushed them away. Was all too glad to do so. "I shouldn't have looked. Sorry."

"No, you have nothing to apologize for." Almost bashfully, Oswald collected the photos and slipped them under his jacket. Right over his heart. Had he done it on purpose, or subconsciously? Edward wondered. For the first time, he feared the answer.

Oswald quickly tried to steer them back on track. He placed the gift before Edward, who just stared at it for a moment. He looked back at Oswald, who was smiling nervously. For the first time since these visits had begun, Edward noticed little changes in his...former friend. They were tiny, almost invisible. But they were there. A beam of pale, weak light falling across Oswald's face revealed his irises. They had once been icy-blue. Now, Edward could see that the irises' outer rims were indigo. Oswald's skin also had a very faint hint of peach, one that Edward had never seen before. The ends of Oswald's inky spikes were slightly curled, too.

All this time, and Edward had never noticed. Maybe he just hadn't wanted to see it. Especially when he considered what Oswald had been telling him.

Oswald was oblivious. Seeming to think that Edward's silence was due to confusion rather than hurt realization. He gestured to the present, smirking proudly. "It's a puzzle. The trick is opening it." He said. Edward undid the black wrapping paper and, indeed, found a puzzle box sitting in front of him. He immediately got to work. Oswald continued to talk. "The man at the store said it's one of the most difficult ever made. People pass it on, unsolved, for generations." Edward's nimble fingers continued to work. Oswald went on. "A mathematician once went mad trying to-"

With a final twist of his wrist, Edward set the box down. Its sides fell away like rotting fruit peel, revealing the red dominoes inside. Oswald stared at them with wide eyes. His jaw was dropped. Silent. Then, he broke into chuckles. "Yes!" He nodded towards it. "Well, there you go!" Another cackle.

Edward leaned back in his chair. Smiled faintly. "It was a lovely thought." A moment of silence passed between them. Slightly awkward, but warm. Familiar.

Oswald stared at him with nothing but friendliness. "And did you get the biscuits? A-and the sweater? I know how drafty these rooms are."

Edward had enough. "Mr. Cobblepot-"

"Oswald."

"When I think of how I treated you-"

"Stop." Oswald held up a hand. Smiling gently at him.

It tugged at Edward's heartstrings. He swallowed. Unable to stop the question from bubbling up his throat. "Why're you being so kind?"

Oswald's smile faded. A thoughtful expression fell over his angular face. "Talking to you these past months..." He licked his lips, searching for the right words. "I don't know how I could've gotten by otherwise. I mean, Ruby's been wonderful as always. And our weekly sessions with Barker are always amazing. Exhausting, but amazing. I feel like I learn something new about her, and myself, with each visit."

Edward felt like someone was twisting his organs inside out.

Oswald continued. "But it's still business, not pleasure. And I feel that there are certain matters that you may help me understand better than anyone else." His expression grew bitter. "Fish out there, planning who knows what...me being surrounded by, for the most part, morons and lunatics..."

"I know the feeling." Edward whispered, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling.

Oswald turned back to him. Eyes pleading. "Why didn't she kill me when she had the chance? I was powerless. Before Ruby's intervention, before Cobblair's birth, my head was located in between one of her goons' hands. She could have leaned forward and slit my throat, had she wished." He shook his head. "She must have a larger goal in mind. I need to know what she is doing."

Edward frowned. "Do you?"

Oswald stopped. Stared at him with big, confused eyes.

Edward tore off a piece of the wrapping paper. Began to fold it. "When Alexander encountered the Gordian knot, a knot so complex no one had been able to untangle it, he just removed his sword and cut it in two."

Oswald quirked a brow. His eyes as attentive and alert as a fox's.

"Details can be distracting." Edward continued, his fingers still folding. "Sometimes, a simple solution is best. So no matter what she is planning, just remember..." He placed his creation on the table. A small paper penguin sat before Oswald. An affectionate smile spread across the man's face as he looked at it. Edward finished. "Penguins...eat...fish."

Oswald's expression hardened. His heart took flight. Edward's plummeted.


	39. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Music played softly, cattish and seductive. Exactly Barbara's style, down to a T. She had put it on half an hour ago in the hopes of withdrawing inspiration from it, to no avail. Even sitting in her favorite chair in the bar hadn't helped stir things up. The waste basket filled with crumpled paper balls could testify.

Barbara ran a hand through her silky hair. Groaning. The letter beneath her hand was coming out even worse than she'd thought. Tempted to rip it up and start over again, she paused. Considered the contents she intended to put there.

Six months had passed since Ruby Sinclair had tried to end her life. Six months since that rainy day, as though the heavens themselves had wept. Six months, and Barbara could still see the scene clear as day. Oswald and Ruby stepping out, his coat resting around her shoulders, walking towards the ambulance. The look he'd shot her, Tabitha, and Butch had been cold enough to freeze their limbs off. Ruby hadn't even noticed them. A small blessing. If she'd looked them in the eye, her gaze would have been torture to endure. _'You did this to me'_.

Barbara knew that. Deep down, beneath her sassy, confident attitude, she'd been living with that guilt every day. Tabitha knew it, and though they scarcely discussed it, she had been there to pick Barbara up when torment had knocked her down.

But that still wasn't enough. As much as she wanted to, Barbara couldn't just bury that day and pretend it had never happened. The truth of the matter was, she'd nearly driven someone to suicide. Normally, death just bounced off her. Barbara had lost count of the number of thugs and lowlifes she and Tabby had killed, merely for fun. But this felt...different. It wasn't a rapid stab wound that killed someone in about a minute. This had been a slow, anguishing treatment that she'd commenced behind a screen. All to convince people to her cause.

She'd gotten what she'd wanted, true, but the cost had felt too rotten to consider.

What startled Barbara was that Ruby had never sought vengeance. She'd never sent Oswald, or any of his goons, to beat Barbara up or burn down her club. She'd never sent her anything vile in the mail, never tattled to the police, never even drained her bank account.

Nothing but silence. Perhaps that was what unnerved Barbara the most. Waiting. Wondering why Ruby wouldn't deliver the second blow when Barbara was right in her sights. Was Barbara really worth so little as a target?

Either way, this silence risked driving Barbara mad. Hence the mess of paper and ink around her.

Barbara couldn't apologize to Ruby in person. Apologies had never been her strong point. Once, as a child, she'd become convinced that one of the servant girls had stolen one of her necklaces. Ten-year-old Barbara had ordered her father's bodyguard to beat the teenage maid until the poor soul lost an eye. In the end, they'd discovered that she'd never stolen anything; Barbara had simply misplaced it. No apology had left her lips.

Barbara was determined to act differently. True, she had no intention of directly confronting the former maid. But she still wanted her to know how she felt. Hence, the letter. Safe. Easy.

But nothing came out the way it was supposed to.

Sighing, Barbara took a sip from her martini.

That was when the door opened with a groan. A group of men walked in with an air of dominance, all expensive suits and tough expressions. Barbara glanced dully in their direction before resuming her letter. The men kept coming closer. Sharp scents of cologne and sweat swarmed her nostrils like fog. One man, the shortest of the bunch, rested his hand on the glass counter. "You Barbara Kean?"

"We're closed."

One of the thugs swept his arm. Bottles of vodka crashed to the floor.

Sighing, Barbara set the pen down and looked at the head honcho. " _What?_ " She asked petulantly.

The guy, bald and possibly middle-aged, eyed her with contempt. "You built this club on our territory. We let you 'cause we heard Penguin had your back. And now we hear that ain't so!"

Another consequence to her actions. Oswald had withdrawn all support to the Sirens the day after Ruby checked into the hospital. Barbara hadn't cared then, and she didn't care now.

Calmly, she drank from her martini.

"Bad for you," the guy said, "good for us."

Barbara set the drink down with a sigh. "Get the hell out." She ordered brightly.

In response, the man smacked her across the face. Barbara clutched her burning cheek. Gasped heavily. "This place is ours now, do you understand?" The man growled.

Barbara's eyes teared up. "You can't just come in here-"

The guy raised his fist again. Barbara flinched. "D-don't hit me, okay? Please!" Yet even as he watched, even as high heels closed in, Barbara's whimpers evolved into laughter.

She cackled as the men, save for the boss, crashed to their knees. Their throats were slashed open, blood spilling like new wine. When the boss reached for his gun, his eyes on Tabitha, Barbara swiped it out of his hand. Swung it across his face. Then, even after he'd hit the floor, she hit him a few more times. Cackling with delight.

* * *

Ruby stood outside Arkham's rusting gates, wishing to be anywhere else on Earth.

An icy wind jabbed at her exposed neck. She quickly tightened her coat's collar. Shivering madly, she stared up at the building that had been her home and her prison for an entire year. A weird lump formed in her throat. Pushing some curls out of her eyes, she found herself going back in time. She remembered the first time she'd ever left the house at age seventeen. Before then, aside from the occasional late-night cinema, her world had been made up of four walls, a small window that she was forbidden to look through during the day, and countless maids who served her meals. Each one would come in blindfolded so as not to see the hideous freakshow their gorgeous employers had created.

Ruby remembered that life all too well. She would never be allowed to leave her room; they had even installed a bathroom to keep her from complaining. Not only that, she was forbidden from making noise. Especially when guests were present, which was very often. As she'd gotten older, she would kick up a fuss just for a bit of attention. The only result were two days without food. The only sources of entertainment that came her way were books, her mother's jewelry that she was meant to polish, and an old dart board. Ruby especially enjoyed the last one when she taped her mother's face to it.

When she'd left the house to go to Arkham, Ruby's parents had pulled a sack over her head and bound her wrists together. And yet, she'd felt free. Free to feel sunlight on her swollen flesh and the breeze on her face through the fibres. Small freedoms, but freedoms nevertheless.

Arkham, for all of its hardships, hadn't been that awful either. Until the experiments had begun.

Before that, Ruby had been treated with neautrality rather than loathing and distaste. Sure, Ms. Peabody and all the orderlies had been disgusted by her. Who wouldn't have been? But they had still treated her decently, probably thanks to the money that her parents had paid. Nevertheless, it had been a welcomed change. The patients, too, had been too caught up in their own worlds to recognize her deformities. They had treated her as if she'd been...normal. Something that Ruby hadn't known she could be.

Then, the experiments had unfolded. They had been agonizing and terrifying in their mystery. No explanations had been given, no heads-up to the side effects. One injection had caused Ruby to vomit so much that they'd had to rehydrate her with an I.V. Another had made her bleed pus for a week. But in the end, Strange had kept his word and given her a stable condition.

Not normal, but stable. Which was more than Ruby had ever hoped for. Yet when Strange had offered to tell her parents the great news, she'd declined.

Arkham had been a necessary step forward for her. Yet every time she looked at these gates, Ruby couldn't forget that her parents has walked through them without turning back.

Her vision had just gotten blurry when there came a familiar noise. Feet crunching the gravel, accompanied by the regular _pic, pic, pic_ of a walking stick. Thinking quickly, Ruby wiped her eyes with her sleeve. The gates yawned with a deafening screech. Emerging from the intricate metal jaws was a beaming, straight-shoulders Oswald. Ruby's heart lifted at the sight. "Hey!" The two met with a tight hug. "Thank you so much for coming." He whispered in her ear.

Shivering, she tightened her hold on him. "Anytime, Oz. It beat discussing the benefits of vegetarianism with Butch again." She rolled her eyes as Oswald chuckled. Once they pulled away, she smiled and touched his face. "You look like you had a good time."

"Oh, absolutely." Oswald offered her his arm. She took it. Turning their backs to the decrepit madhouse, they approached the path. Another powerful wind played with their hair and chilled their faces. Without thinking they scooted closer to each other. Oswald had a satisfied look in his eyes that Ruby welcomed after all of the stress provided by Fish. "Edward truly remains the genius I once knew. Arkham has not broken him. And it never will." Oswald smiled proudly before turning to Ruby. The way he looked at her made her insides turn to putty. "The same goes for you. Arkham, I think, has made you stronger; and not merely because of the obvious, biological elements."

Ruby smiled softly. Rested her head on his shoulder. A difficult feat given her superior height. "I feel the same way about you, champ." Raising her head again, she looked into his eyes. "I've literally shared a mind with you, and I can confirm you're the strongest person I've ever met." Oswald didn't say anything. Just stared at her. Then, very gently, he placed his hand on the back of her head. Then, he pulled it forward until their foreheads were touching. Blushing wildly, Ruby smiled shyly and let him. Trying to control her heartbeat all the while.

They stayed like that for a moment, their warm skins touching and their misty breaths caressing each other's cheeks.

 _Remember this moment_ , she told herself.

Then, the ferryboat's whistle rumbled the cold air. The spell broke. Oswald and Ruby pulled apart - though not by much - and saw their trepidation come to life. The small, dingy vessel was already inching away from the port, its sailors undoing the soggy ropes and tossing them aboard.

The friends shared a single look.

Five minutes later, the last sailor was dumping the last of the ropes onto the deck. The captain rolled down the window and called down, "So, we ready to go?"

"Yessir!" The sailor yelled. "We should be in Gotham in about an hour and-" A heavy hand clamped on his shoulder. He froze. Slowly turned around. A tall figure peered down at him with hostile amusement. It was neither male nor female. Rather, it exhibited characteristics of both. A beak-like nose protruded from a round, chinless face. Curly black hair billowing in the damp wind. Mismatched eyes - one icy-blue, the other indigo - twinkled with mischief. But what truly frightened the sailor was the person's right hand: where fingers should have been, there were five-inch blades sharp enough to cut reality in two.

The person grinned. "Aw, we know you weren't going to leave without us. Riiiiight?" The tips of those knife-fingers lightly tapped the sailor's throat. That was when he felt his bladder loosen, and his pants go hot. The figure noticed as well, which only made it - them? - smile with glee. "Oh, the message came through! Great!" Without another word they pushed past the terrified sailor. Hopped over the widening gap of churning water. Then, once on deck, the figure began to glow. The sailor shielded his eyes from the sun-like glare. When it ended a few seconds later, the sailor looked to see two people making their way inside they like owned the boat. The sailor stared after them with a dropped jaw. The ferry was too far away now to be able to jump aboard. But that was fine. All of a sudden, the sailor didn't want to be on it. He'd wait for the next one. Or sleep on a park bench tonight. Whichever option felt better.

Oswald and Ruby were still laughing about it as they sat at one of the vacant tables, paper cups of coffee warming their hands. "Did you see his face?" Ruby chuckled.

"Yes!" Oswald pointed to his eye. "Well, half-see, anyway." This triggered more laughter.

"He actually wet himself? Dear God." Ruby hid her smile behind her hand. "And here I thought the Master was easy to scare?"

"Oh, was he?" Oswald asked curiously. He rested his cheek on his fist. Ruby nodded, raking a hand through her pixie cut. "Yeah. He couldn't stand any type of horror. Even the really cheap kind. Especially gore, he hated it." Ruby took a sip from her coffee and grimaced at the powdery taste. "I learned that the hard way."

Oswald quirked a brow. "Oh? Do I sense an embarressing story coming up?"

"Yes indeed." Ruby sniggered. "One night, for a treat, I rented the movie 'Fright Night'. He got so scared he literally threw up all over the carpet." She shook her head. "Took me two days and three bucketfuls to shampoo it thoroughly. Grace's two brats spent those days throwing peanuts at me. Jerks."

Oswald rolled his eyes. "Sounds familiar." He took a drink of his coffee. Without a second's hesitation he turned his head and spat it out. Then, as an afterthought, squeezed the cup through the thin space between the window's glass and frame. With a faint splash and a spray it was gone. He turned back to Ruby. "My mother was the same in all honesty. Anything concerning danger and horror simply terrified her. I remember, as a teen, I showed her one of my favorite films-"

"'The Godfather'." Ruby piped up.

Oswald nodded. "'The Godfather'. She got so upset when the horse's head entered the frame that I had to turn it off and make her some tea." He shook his head. "I quickly gave up after that."

Ruby nodded in understanding as a question blossomed in her skull. She hesitated, hoping to word it correctly. As she stalled, she followed Oswald's lead in looking around. The ferry's interior was warmer than the outside, but not by much. The ceiling and walls had seen better days, and the windows were so caked in dried sea salt that theirs resembled frosted glass. The floorboards were dark with years' worth of accumulated filth. If one inhaled too deeply, they could smell fish guts. There was only a handful of other passengers. Visitors of Arkham Asylum, most likely. There was nothing else on that small, miserable island worth visiting.

The boat gently rocked from side to side, cradled by the river's waves. It was a comforting feeling. One that gave Ruby strength.

"Um...Oz?"

"Hm?" He looked back at her with alert, shining eyes.

Ruby tucked a lock behind her ear. Fiddled with the malachite earring hanging from her lobe. "Why...did you become a criminal?"

Oswald looked surprised. Ruby quickly continued to avoid any misunderstandings. "I mean, by all means, this is Gotham. I get it. But..." she sighed. "You're worth so much more than the lowlife scum you rule over. If you'd wanted to, you could've become anything you wanted. A gentleman. A gallery owner, given your love for art. Hell, maybe even president!" She scoffed. "After our current one, you'd win the following election by a landslide."

Oswald scratched his head. His eyes clouded with thought. Then, he reached out across the wooden table. Ruby understood. She did the same. Their hands interlocked. He gave her the shadow of a smile. "I am touched that you think so highly of me, especially when you have seen all of my filthy secrets. And maybe you're right. Maybe I could have applied myself to a different, more legal field and excelled. But you know what?" He shook his head, biting his lip. "I did not want any other field. I wanted this one, and I still do."

Ruby didn't speak. Just listened.

Oswald went on. "Throughout my life, I have always been abused and picked on by those with greater power. Bullies, bosses, men my mother dated..." He shuddered at the last one. "And I never fought back. My mother always gave me the same advice: ignore them, and they will eventually stop. This, of course, is incorrect. Bullies don't stop. Even if they do, then they will simply be replaced by those with greater patience."

Ruby nodded to show that she was listening.

Further encouraged, Oswald continued. "That is why I wanted to become a criminal. Not merely a criminal, but the criminal. The one who held absolute power over the city, the one who could bribe the police and destroy any rival. I wanted to show them all exactly whom they had been messing with, and how wrong they had been at doing so." He licked his lips. Seemingly exhausted by this telling. "I wanted to be the best."

Ruby blinked slowly at him. Then, she did something that shocked both of them. But after a second's contemplation, she found that she didn't care. Carefully, she lifted their intertwined hands towards her face. Oswald watched with wide eyes as Ruby gently kissed the back of his hand. It was incredibly light, barely there, and barely lasted more than a second. Face burning, Ruby lowered their hands. She looked into his eyes, lest she lose her footing. "You don't need to want it." She stated. "You already are."

Oswald's eyes widened further. His shocked expression melted into one of quiet joy. He covered the back of Ruby's hand with his free one. Warming it. "Thank you." He whispered. There was so much meaning in those two simple words. Ruby was close to tearing up again when Oswald's breast pocket began to buzz. "What in the..." Frowning down at it, he undid the zipper and extracted his phone. When he saw the name, his entire body seemed to sigh. "Oh, wonderful."

"Who is it?"

"Butch. That stupid ape." Oswald shook his head. "He tells me that the Sirens are encountering business dilemmas with the gangs of that neighborhood."

Ruby groaned. "Oh my God, here we go."

"My words exactly." Oswald muttered. "But, I fear duty calls. Otherwise, Barbara may use my reluctance to help as ammunition against me later. Perhaps convince some of my followers that I am not a diligent leader, and the like." He sighed. Looked first out the window, then at the clock. "How long until this bloody boat reaches the port?"

Ruby suddenly brightened. Then grinned. "Who says we have to stay here?"

Oswald immediately caught on. "Who, indeed?" Rising, he held out his hand to her. Ruby took it. Taking care not to attract any stares, they made their way on the deck. A minute later, there was a bright halo just beyond the door.

Then, there came the flapping of wings. They grew distant. Faded. Into silence.


	40. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

'Irritated' did not even begin to describe Oswald's sentiments. Even his flight with Ruby as Cobblair had done little to put him in a good enough mood to bear the Sirens' nonsense.

The flight, though, had been every bit as exciting and wondrous as Ruby had described. Finding himself so high up, looking down even on the seagulls, had given him a euphoric sense of power. The icy, damp wind whipping his face and the smoky clouds had sent his nerves into a frenzy. The terror that came with the five-hundred-foot height had been miniscule compared to what must have been normal. From this bird's eye view, the sunset was breath-taking. Cobblair watched with wide eyes as the sky bled indigo as the sun dipped into the river. Blackness overtook the heavens seconds afterwards, anxious to take hold. In this darkness, Cobblair risked a few aerial tricks that had both their hearts pounding.

It had set his spirits high. But they had come crashing down the second Cobblair landed before the club and separated back into their founders. Butch shuddered as he lowered his arm. "That ain't never gonna get normal."

"Good." Ruby replied. "Normal is boring."

Butch frowned at her. "What did you do to your hair?" Ruby frowned before peering into the glass door. Her eyes bulged. At the tips, her hair had become jet-black. "Oh, great." Squeezing her eyes shut, she concentrated. The tips paled back to their natural color. She grinned at the result. "There. Now, all I have to do is focus continually on that spot for the next six hours."

"What happens after six hours?" Butch asked.

"My powers need a break." Ruby explained. "I can keep something going steadily for six hours, but after that, I run out of juice. Pushing myself harder..." She winced. "Bad idea. Hence, this." She held up her wrist, where her digital watch sat snugly.

"Yes, yes, yes, dear." Oswald said. "That's all fine and good, but I'd rather get down to business if you don't mind."

Ruby gave him a half-smile before giving him a 'go on' gesture. Thanking her with a nod, Oswald cracked his neck. "Now," he turned to his thug, "what, pray, is going on in there?"

Butch was quick to explain what had happened. Ruby rolled her eyes, drumming her fingers against her biceps, while Oswald simply grew jittery. As the last word left Butch's mouth, the kingpin huffed. "Fine! Let's get this over with!" Lurching through the yawning doors, he made a beeline for the elevator. Ruby gave Butch a look as she passed him. The thug winced as an old sense of guilt nipped at him. He, too, followed.

Ten minutes later, all five of them were occupying the club's main hall. Well, six if one counted the heavily-bandaged gangster with the thick accent. Barbara and Tabitha jabbered about what happened, while Ruby glanced at the bloody smears on the tiles. Hmm.

"I really do not have time for this." Oswald said tightly.

"He started it." Tabitha muttered.

"It's a lie!" The gangster piped up through the dense facial gauze. "The cwub is on our territory!"

"'Cwub'?" Barbara echoed humorously. "What's a 'cwub'?"

Oswald leaned his head back, his expression dangerously blank. Ruby shook her head as Barbara continued to laugh.

The gangster tried again. "Cwub."

"What's a cwub?" Barbara asked again, even more jokingly. Still holding her cherry drink, she turned to the small crowd. "I mean, can anyone understand him?" Reverting her gaze to the man once more, she asked, "Do you know what a 'cwub' is?"

"Cwub!" The gangster tried once more. Barbara had begun to laugh when Oswald thumped the bottom of his cane against the floor. "Enough." He gave the gangster a cordial look. "We will work something out." He glanced at the Sirens. "This is his territory. What're you willing to give him?"

Barbara thought for a moment, pounting her pink lip, before removing the cherry from her drink. Sticking it in her mouth, she bent over the gangster. Everyone watched, silent and surprised when she extracted the berry from her mouth and placed it on the gangster's leg. "Boop." She giggled.

Ruby snorted.

Oswald took a second to reel in his exasperation. "That is not helpful."

Barbara stared at him incredulously. "Are you telling me you don't see what's going on here? _He_ ," she pointed behind Oswald, "is behind this."

Ruby and Oswald turned their heads at the same time. Butch shifted from one foot to another. "What're you talking about?"

Barbara continued speaking to Oswald. "He sent this ding-dong to squeeze us, hoping it'll have us running back to you, so that he could lord over Tabby." Her blue eyes shifted to Butch. "Ain't that right?"

Oswald slowly turned back to Butch. His mouth was a thin, cut line. His eyes were cold and bottomless, like frozen wells. Butch shifted underneath that gaze like a bug under a microscope. "Well - heh - that's...that's crazy. She's crazy." Even as he spoke, he was sounding less confident by the minute. "She was in Arkham, hello?"

"Hello, so was I!" Oswald replied tersely.

Ruby pinched the bridge of her nose. "Man overboard." She muttered. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence followed by Tabitha's quiet question. "Is that true, Butch?"

Butch didn't say 'yes'. He didn't need to.

Oswald laughed humorlessly. "Unbelievable." He took a few steps towards his thug, until they were mere noses apart. His glare spoke more than words ever could. Then, he spun around and lumbered towards the gangster. Without the slightest hesitation, he extracted his gun and held it out. With a brief _bang_ and a _thump_ , the gangster was no more.

"Fine!" Oswald huffed. "Run your club. Come, Ruby. We've had enough excitement for one night." Ruby nodded and headed for the windows. Butch stood there, looking more like an awkward little schoolboy than a professional gangster. Oswald paused before reverting to the Sirens. Specifically, the one he hated the most. "Just so we're clear: the only reason you are alive is Butch. The moment he gives me the word, you're mine."

Tabitha's jaw tightened. She stared down at Oswald as though he were a bug on her windshield. Oswald glared back for all he was worth. Electricity rippled between them. Putting them both into a trance of hatred. A clashing of grudges honoring dead loved ones.

Two gentle hands landed on Oswald's biceps. Blinking, he turned around. Ruby's sympathetic visage was there. Snapping him out of it. Suddenly much more tired than he'd been before, he let himself be guided away. Tabitha gave a small smile. Ruby cast one wayward glance at the two women. Her indigo eyes were cold and flat.

Oswald looked at her. Understanding what she'd done, he thanked her with a nod. With a faint smile, she nodded back. They leaned into each other.

Barbara, Tabitha, and Butch all looked away as a blinding light flooded the room. When it cleared, a single figure stood where two once had. Tabitha and Barbara both gasped, stumbling back in shock. Tabitha reached for her whip when Butch found his voice, "Wait!"

Tabitha's head spun towards him.

"It's - it's them! Look!" Butch pointed at the figure.

Confused, Barbara reverted her gaze to the person. She realized with a jolt that the large man was right. It resembled, in different ways, Penguin and the former maid. It was taller than the former but shorter than the latter. Black curly hair danced in the draft provided by the window. Its upper body resembled the Penguin's, while the lower half was much more feminine and robust. The clothes, too, had fused. The figure wore Ruby's acquamarine necklace and agate bracelets, as well as her jeans jacket. But the silk trousers, button-down shirt, and vest could only belong to the Penguin.

The face looking at them was the most chilling sight either Siren would see for a while.

Without a second thought, Cobblair walked backwards until their back reached the window's ledge. They toppled backward like a domino. Vanished into the night air.

Not a second later, what looked like a very large bat flew off into the distance.

* * *

Days passed in a silent, steady rhythm. Oswald and Ruby went about their activities as usual, pumping coals into the roaring furnace that was Gotham's underworld. Deals that were respected bled rewards. Those that were betrayed bled nothing but liquid rubies. During every spare moment the duo scoured the city for Fish Mooney. Oswald strung up gang members like hams, threatening them with death if they attempted to fool him. When it became clear that they simply didn't know, Oswald made due with hacking their toes off with a cleaver. Ruby used gentler methods, contacting every fellow freak she could find. Both those who'd heeded her warning and those who hadn't. She presented herself to each one, holding an old photo of Fish Mooney, to no avail.

Being forced to return home each night empty-handed was almost more than Ruby could bear. Especially when she looked into Oswald's eyes. Saw the light in them wink out, bit by bit.

Which was what spurred her to search even in the wee hours of the morning.

Yawning, Ruby chugged down another Red Bull. The so-called energy drink ran down her throat in a sugary burn. Shuddering, Ruby stared at the can. "No way is this thing helping." Belching, she crushed the can against her skull before tossing it over the ledge. She watched it plummet into the crowded streets below. Barely got a glance. Summoning her binoculars once more, she held them to her face. Yawned again as she scanned the area.

For the past five nights, Ruby had covered five different parts of the city. The Narrows. Half of Otisburg on one night and the second half another. Old Gotham. Burnley. All to no avail. Tonight was Ace Chemicals' turn. The place had a grim reputation for hosting all sorts of unsavory characters, especially at night and especially fugitives. As good a place as any to look.

Ruby yawned yet again. Slapped herself a couple of times. Out of curiosity, she glimpsed at her watch and groaned. Three a.m. Brilliant. She'd wake up tomorrow at noon, if she was lucky. Thank goodness she could fly.

"Okay," she muttered to herself, "just look at this trash-heap one more time, and if nothing's there..."

Something in the shadows cut her off. Ruby frowned. Zeroed in on the rippling shapes. Two figures. Both female. An adult, seizing the arm of a young girl. Dragging her inside. As Ruby lowered the binoculars, she concentrated on her shape. Rather, she concentrated on breaking it apart. Atom by atom. Within seconds she was dust in the wind, blowing towards the factory.

The particles trickled in from a crack in a window. Rejoined into Ruby, who stood on one of the wall's snake-like pipes. She had to cover her mouth to avoid gasping.

The inside of this desolate place was even gloomier than she'd pictured it. Ancient, forgotten crates were scattered about. Candles had been recently implanted, burning softly like distant stars. A group of people stood in the center, looking impatient and nervous. An odd bunch, it seemed. Some were tall enough to be professional basketball players, while others were short and squat. One had a shock of white hair. And another...

She turned her face towards Ruby, clearly not seeing her. But Ruby saw. And she almost yelped when she did.

Just to be sure, Ruby brought the binoculars to her face again. Her blood turned to ice.

"Fish Mooney." She whispered. One hand dropped from the binoculars. The fingers began to stretch. Sharpening at the ends.

A door slamming distracted her attack. Ruby turned to see the same figures she'd seen outside. In this slightly improved lighting, she could make out a few distinct features. One was a full-grown woman with a tight black ponytail and a mask covering the lower half of her face. And the other...dear God, she couldn't have been older than thirteen or fourteen. She had beautiful red hair flowing behind her. Her sweater was green. Her face was terrified.

The woman brought the girl to Fish's posse. They exchanged words. Ruby was too far away to hear anything, and she didn't want to risk this golden oppurtunity by moving. Swallowing hard, she leaned forward as much as she dared. Sprouting additional arms to hold onto the pipe.

Through the binoculars she saw Fish's expression grow dangerous. Her heart-shaped lips formed a single word, then she took a step aside. An old man with glasses approached the girl, removing one of his gloves in the process. The red-haired girl broke free and made a run for it. The masked woman raced after her. So did the curly-haired girl...Selina? Ruby tsked. She would have to berate Bruce one day on his choices in females. Quickly putting down her binoculars, she transformed into sludge. It slithered across the walls, chasing the distant stops across the twisted corridors. Down the stairs.

The red-haired girl broke through a back door. Ran as quickly as her thin legs could carry her. Ruby resumed her shape atop a drainage pipe on the roof, her eyes wide. At the girl's feet was a fast-moving current of water. She was about to call to the girl when Selina screamed, "IVY!"

Ruby and Ivy turned their heads at the same time. The masked woman barred Selina's entrance. A slender arm made it through the leathery barrier. "Look out!"

The old man grabbed Ivy's hand. She fought and struggled, but he refused to let go. "Help!" She yelled.

The man let go of her. She lost her balance.

There was a yelp, and then a splash. Ruby gasped. She stared down the hole, biting her lip, before turning back to the factory. Where her prize sat, just waiting to be collected. Then, she reverted her gaze to the rush of water. She closed her eyes with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Oswald." Her form dissolved once more, carried off by the wind.

It did not take long to reach the river. Indeed, Ruby saw the small body almost the instant she arrived. Her heart fluttering, she summoned her cartilage wings once more. Rising above the churning waves, she kept her eyes on the bobbing figure. Two additional arms grew along her ribs. Reaching into the gelid, filthy waters, she grabbed a handful of hair and wool. With a grunt Ruby pushed herself higher into the sky, along her hands' find. Ruby peered down and sighed with relief. The girl was hanging from her grasp, limp as a rag doll.

Yet even as she held her still form...it wasn't still. Ruby could feel, even through the icy numbness, bones thickening and skin rippling. Some things elongating while others were shrinking. Ruby's memory presented the man from earlier. His gloves. His touch. She shuddered. Had she done nothing but fish out a dead body? No, that couldn't be it. Dead bodies do not grow. They erode.

Fighting off the thoughts, Ruby looked about. She couldn't bring Ivy to a hospital. Word might spread, and Fish would be tempted to finish what her henchman started. But if she just dumped her anywhere, she'd be signing Ivy's death warrant. It had to be someone with people, but not too many.

Another gander brought forth a blessing. A gas station filled with trucks, on the other side of the river. Brilliant. It was far enough from Fish's entourage to be serviceable, yet open to the public. Hopefully, someone would find her.

With a grunt, Ruby adjusted her grip on the changing Ivy so as not to risk dropping her. Then, with a titanic effort she flapped her wings towards the briny shore. The musky, cold wind whipped at them both like an angry slaver, seeming determined to bring them down. They almost did go down once, thanks to the slippery material of Ivy's sweater. Ruby sweated rivers as she fought to both keep her balance and hold onto the unconscious girl. No matter how hard she flapped her makeshift wings, the blasted station never seemed to get any closer.

Until it did. Ruby lowered herself about a foot from the ground. Then, she let go of Ivy. The girl hit the cement like a sack of olives. Ruby landed on her soaked feet. Retracting her wings and extra arms. Shuddering from the effort, she looked about. The lights were still on. Through the window, she could see some Middle-European employee sitting at his desk, bobbing his head to some music and munching on a doughnut.

Ah, good enough.

Ruby turned back to Ivy. Hoping that nothing was broken or bruised, she raked some red hair out of the girl's face. Her breath trickled out of her lungs.

She hadn't gotten a good look at Ivy, but she'd been close enough to see how young she was. This girl...woman...was not so young anymore. Indeed, she seemed to be Ruby's age! Ruby rubbed her eyes hard, then looked again. Her vision remained the same. She was looking at a woman in her early to mid twenties, with a heart-shaped face and long, dark lashes. Her expression was almost serene beneath all of the grime. Lowering her gaze, Ruby saw a woman's body beneath the oversized striped sweater and short skirt. A deep gash ran across her outer thigh. Her skin was tinged blue from the cold.

Ruby leaned her head back with a sigh. "Goddamn it." She adjusted Ivy's limp form into a more comfortable position. Then, she shedded her coat and draped it over the young woman. Biting her lip, she pulled back the cloth again to view the cut. If it was left alone all night, especially given the exposure to the river...

Ruby held her hand over the cut. She willed her limb to soften. Loosen. Drips of peach-colored clay splatted upon the gash. Ivy moaned softly in her sleep. Twitched, then stilled. Ruby continued, creating a firm crust over the cut. When at last all red had vanished, she solidified her hand and pulled away. Waited. Counted up to three Mississippi. Then, she watched the clay break away like dry soil. Where the open laceration had been was now a shiny white scar.

Ruby wiped her brow with a sigh. Checked her watch. Almost five-thirty a.m. She glanced back at Ivy. "Sorry about them. We're not all that blood-thirsty, I assure you." She was about to rise when Ivy's eyelashes fluttered. Slowly, her eyes opened. Lovely blue eyes shone in the moonlight like sapphires. Wow. She was going to break some hearts.

Those eyes frowned when they met Ruby's. Pink lips tried to form words, but nothing came out. Ruby recognized the words. 'Who...are...you?'

Ruby placed a hand on her chest. "Ruby Sinclair. Or Clayface Point Two, to some." She dropped her hand. "I, uh, kind of plucked you out of the river."

Ivy began to rise, but Ruby gently pushed her back down. "Rest. You're gonna need it." The young woman was too exhausted to argue. Ruby waited until her breath steadied once more. Then, with one last wayward glance at the factory, she took off once more.

She'd let Fish get away, and that thought would keep her awake. But deep within herself, Ruby knew that if she'd let the girl die, she never would have forgiven herself.


	41. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

The next morning was as gloomy as Ruby's heart. The heavens were entirely hidden by huge gray clouds. The incoming dawn barely seemed brighter than the night before. In the aftermath of the rescue, she couldn't help feeling guilty. Oswald wanted Fish to pay for all that she'd done. He wanted to kill her before she could kill him. She'd been right there, within Ruby's reach, and what had Ruby done? Let her slip away in favor of a drowning girl.

The former maid sighed. Rested her forehead against her palm. Sleepiness, perisistent even after a cold shower, a change of clothes, and the wearing of pale pink pearls, tried to worm its way into her brain. Ruby straightened with a loud yawn. Stretched like a cat. Her necklace slipped away from her collar. Refreshingly cool on her skin. Her pink diamond earrings swayed as she turned her head. Ruby's breakfast of tofu bacon and chocolate milk sat untouched beside her. Oswald's was neatly placed on a tray. Ready to be served at seven a.m. sharp. It had all his favorites: tea, slightly burned toast, butter, orange juice, a carrot muffin, and a soft-boiled egg. Making him such a fine meal almost made her feel better for betraying him.

Ruby rubbed her eyes tiredly. Her body longed for sleep, but that simply couldn't happen. Today Oswald intended to confront the GCPD for their failure, knowingly barging in during a press conference. Ruby didn't want to miss it.

The grandfather clock began to chime. Ruby pushed herself up. Her arm stretched the five feet separating her from the tray on the couter. Swiftly picking it up, her arm resumed its normal length. Groggily, she made her way up the staircase. She took a moment to look around during her ascent. Admired the oil-on-canvas portraits that she'd been dusting for nearly a decade. Appreciated the soft, emerald-green carpet beneath her sore feet. Drank in the overall sense of home.

Then, she wondered if Oswald had ever felt this way about his previous home. The one that he'd shared with his mother. Probably so, soaking in melancholy and nostalgia.

Before the last chime faded, Ruby knocked on the door. Then, at a tired, "Come in," she entered. A second later, she wished that she hadn't. Photos of Fish Mooney were strewn across every available surface, from the nightstand to the walls. Some were circled, other crudely crossed out. A huge map of Gotham had been pinned above Oswald's bed. Several locations had been black out, while others played host to question marks. Oswald sat on the edge of his bed, legs and arms crossed, and stared intently at the image. His eyes had dark circles beneath them.

Ruby groaned. Set the tray down.

Oswald turned to her, his arms still folded. "The bright side is, there are hardly any locations for her to hide in now. I've had my men comb through her safehouses, to no avail, as well as every property she once had. That only leaves about five or six hiding places." He was speaking so quickly Ruby had to strain to listen. Running her hands through her hair, she sat down next to him. She took his hand to make sure he'd listen. "Oz," she paused, choosing her words carefully, "I know how much this case means to you."

Oswald sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Ruby, but no. You can't. Not fully."

Ruby gave him a look. The girlish color of her jewelry contrasted with her serious expression. "We've literally merged minds. Try that one again."

Oswald bit his lip. Looked away. "I'm sorry."

Ruby nudged him. "It's fine. We're both on edge for this whole thing. We're bound to make mistakes." Her heart began to pick up the pace. Swallowing hard, she spoke. "In fact, er, I need to tell you something." Oswald turned to her. A spark was in his eyes, reinvigorated by the prospect of information. Ruby squeezed his hand. "Just remember...I really care about you."

Oswald smiled a little, genuinely touched by her words. He squeezed back. "As do I." He straightened. "And I promise, whatever it is...I will try not to get angry."

Appreciating the effort on his part, Ruby began to speak. The words gushed out of her like water from a cut-up melon. She found herself talking of how she had been sneaking out every night in search of Fish Mooney, of how little sleep she'd gotten as a result, and how she'd found her last night. She quickly moved on to what happened to Ivy, and how Ruby hadn't been able to leave her in the river. At the end of the tale she hid her face in her hands. Oswald didn't move or speak. She inhaled shakily. "You can be mad. I was a horrible friend. Fish was right there, and I-"

"You did the right thing."

Ruby blinked up at Oswald. A few stray tears streaked her face. Landed on her pearls. Oswald continued. "I know how soft-hearted you can be, Ruby. And in all honesty...that's one of the qualities I most cherish about you."

Ruby didn't answer. Couldn't.

Oswald went on. "You have been through so much, have been betrayed by the very people that brought you into this world, and yet you still find it in yourself to show compassion to others. Even if they may never return it." He cracked a smile. "Am I upset? Yes. But I still believe that you made the right choice." He hesitated before adding, "You have the kind of heart that I sometimes wish I had."

"Oz..." Unable to find a better response, Ruby wrapped her arms around him. He returned the gesture. She stroked his inky hair, breathing in his musky scent, wishing that this moment could last forever. When at last they pulled apart, she spoke. "And don't underestimate yourself, Oz. You have a good heart too, deep down. I've seen it." Her eyes twinkled. "Felt it." She rested a hand on his shoulder. Oswald covered her hand with his. She added, "And don't worry. We'll get her."

Oswald gave a timid smile that didn't dare to hope. The sight lifted Ruby's spirits. She patted his knee. The good one. "Now, eat your breakfast and I'll get a bath going." The dark-haired man gave her a look. "Who are you, my mother?"

"More like guardian angel." Ruby winked at him before disappearing into his restroom. "And don't try hiding the toast under the mattress again!" Oswald stared after her, a soft smile making its way across his face.

* * *

Twenty minutes later saw Ruby helping Oswald slip on a jacket. Silk, of the darkest purple. It shimmered during movement like a butterfly's wings. Coupled with the indigo tie, Oswald was the very picture of 'refined'. It took all of her self-control to keep from blushing as she buttoned the jacket closed. Thankfully, the television had been switched on; it distracted Oswald from his friend's reddening cheeks. There were mentions of 'monster' sightings and the usual crimes, but Ruby didn't want to hear about them. Not right now. She'd offered those souls a way out of town, and they'd rebuffed her offer. Harsh as it was, one cannot be helped unless they personally desire it.

Ruby tried to shake off these dark thoughts. Running her fingers over the fabric, she smiled down at Oswald. After generous helpings of soap and a bit of foundation beneath his eyes, he'd left the tired man behind. In his place was a ruler. A leader. A man in control.

Ruby adjusted his collar before giving him a concerned look. "Are you sure you want to go? I mean, who cares what the press writes? It's not like fifty percent of that isn't based on rumors."

Oswald nodded. "Yes. But if the press begins writing about me favorably, then it will mean that I have a certain amount of power on the legal side of the road as well. This will only improve my reputation. Besides, if the press begins writing about Fish Mooney, then she will feel even more trapped than before. This paranoia may lead to her taking some impulsive action."

Ruby nodded worriedly. Seeing that his mind was set in stone. With a sigh, she reached into her pocket. "Let me at least give you this, then."

Oswald's breath caught in his throat. Hanging from a thin ribbon was a gem no larger than a ripe cherry. It was shaped like a teardrop, made from the clearest blue material that he'd ever seen. If he held it up to his eye, he was certain that he could use it as a blue-tinted monocle.

Ruby giggled at his expression. "Close your mouth or you'll get flies." Oswald quickly obeyed as he friend slipped the ribbon around his neck. The stone rested neatly on his collarbone. Oswald fondled it with wonder. Ruby grinned as he looked back at her. "It's a zircon. Basically, it wards off negative energy."

Oswald blinked.

Ruby shrugged. "Thought it might be useful."

The pale man traced his finger over the stone once more. He shook his head. "Ruby, I cannot accept this."

"I'll resent you if you don't." Ruby laughed at his stunned expression. She held up her own stone: the acquamarine, shining in her palm like a twilight star. "You already spoiled me with this. I may as well try to return the favor."

Oswald stared at her. His gaze softened. "Ruby..."

There came a faint knock on the door. Oswald spun his head. "What?!"

Gabe's voice churned through the wooden barrier, slow and deep as molasses. "Time to go, boss."

"Yes, yes!" Oswald waved him off. "I'll be there in a moment." Turning back, he didn't hesitate to embrace Ruby. The former maid hesitated for a mere second for returning the gesture, blushing madly all the way. When they pulled away, Oswald pushed a rebellious lock out of her eyes. "I will see you this evening."

Ruby, trying to avoid swooning, nodded with a smile. "I'll make you lasagna."

The moment the door closed, however, Ruby's fatigue kicked in. She fell backwards in the covers. Inhaling Oswald's minty scent, she felt her eyeslids seal themselves shut. Sleep gently took her by the hand.

* * *

Lazuli Square was normally a relatively quiet place to be. With only a few bookstores, a Latino dance club, and an H&M, it often escaped criminals' notice due to its mundane nature. Even Oswald, who deemed himself the king of Gotham, had only been there once or twice - both times when Ruby had dragged him to the bookshops. But it was abuzz that afternoon, alive with energy, curiousity, and suspicion. And corruption, of course. There wasn't a corner in Gotham free of it.

A stand had been built to accomodate the board of directors. They were, to the public's eyes, variations of the same divinity: slight differences here and there did not erase their unquestionable power. People of every age had swarmed the stand, occasionally pushing past the journalists to get a better view. Flashing lights and clicking cameras rippled within the herd. Aubrey James stood above them all, his voice booming across the piazza. Dozens of microphones protruded from the stand like diseased plants.

"Friends, this city is in desperate need of leadership. Experienced, seasoned leadership at that! And this is why the board of directors persuaded me, much against my will, to resume the position as mayor until elections can start in the spring." James yelled over the journalists' questions and the blinking cameras, determined to get his point across. He was regal in this position, far beyond the scared imp who'd gotten his head stuck in a box. In that moment, in the warm glow of the lights and the pale sunlight, he felt untouchable.

Until a voice called out, "STOP!"

All heads turns. Eyes widened at the sight of a pale, black-haired man with a cane in his hand and a smirk on his face. Weaving his way through the crowd, with his lapdogs behind him, he spoke calmly and firmly. "This entire event is. A. _Sham!_ "

"Security!" James yelled to hide the cold stab of fear. "Remove this criminal!" The cops didn't move a muscle. Too captivated by the surreal vision.

"Criminal?" Oswald echoed incredulously. "I was imprisoned by a corrupt system. A system that was ruined by that man!" He pointed at Aubrey James, who stretched his neck out like a turkey. Oswald spun around to face the crowd. "Monsters, yes, _monsters_ have been parading through the streets for months, and the police has done nothing. It is I, Oswald Cobblepot, who drove them out." While he might have seemed confident to the average observer, he was cringing beneath the surface. Silently begging for Ruby's forgiveness.

"Oh, please!" James yelled.

Oswald spun around. Jerked his chin up at the man before the microphones. "Where were you when I faced peril at the hands of those abominations?" He scoffed. "How can anyone in their right mind elect you? How could they bring you back to the position that you brought so much shame and dishonor to?" Several people yelled their approval.

James' jaw tightened. "How dare you?!"

"No, how dare _you!_ " Oswald stepped forward. "Waltzing up there and announcing yourself mayor? The people demand to have a say in who will represent them, who will protect them!"

A journalist called out. "Sir," Oswald spun around, "are you challenging Aubrey James for the position of mayor?"

"I most certainly am!" Oswald answered with a wild grin. More people called out joyfully. Their voices rose like songbirds in the muggy air. Strengthened by their vigor, Oswald climbed his way atop the stand. His cane thumped against its velvet draping. Many of the board members shied away from him, horrified to be in the vicinity of a criminal. He swiped one of the microphones free and held it close. "To be mayor, one must be _legally_ elected." He glanced explicitly at James. "And that is why I, Oswald Cobblepot, demand that an emergency election be held," his voice grew stronger and more confident with each word, "and a suitable mayor be found forthwith!" His speech ended with a raging round of applause. Clapping as they would during a circus act, the cameras flashed while journalists scribbled busily away. Oswald's name began to rise from the pleased mouths of the public, rising in volume like a bird taking flight.

Oswald drank it all in. Turned to Aubrey James to ensure that he realized what this victory meant.


	42. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

When Ruby awoke, the room was bathed in lavender. Her heart, which had been slow as a snail a moment before, began to leap. Jumping out of the sheets' warm embrace, she got to work fixing up the room. In the time it takes the average person to bathe, Ruby made the bed, dusted the bookshelves, hung the carpets outside and beat them, and cleaned the windows. By that time, the last few rays had darkened to purple. With a yelp Ruby turned into a puddle. It glided under the door, trickling across the hallway like paint on an upturned canvas. Climbing up the steps that led to the attic, the puddle reformed one atom at a time. By the time it reached the door, it was Ruby's semi-solid hand that turned the doorknob.

Stopping only for a quick, cold shower that cleared the cobwebs from her head, Ruby stripped and changed into an evening classic: a baggy, grey sweatshirt and black sweatpants two sizes too large. Shaking her head like a hound, she giggled at the way her damp, short curls stood erect. Running a hand through them, Ruby eyed the clock. Six thirty. Oswald was probably sipping his early evening wine by now. Good. That meant that she could simply whip out one of the plucked, stuffed roosters she'd been keeping in the freezer. That would only take about half an hour to defrost, and another hour to cook in the oven. Already adding mashed sweet potatoes and asparagus to the mix, Ruby scoured through her jewelry box for something that fit her mood. At last, she settled on a necklace of her own making. Made from a single large piece of bismuth and some barb wire, it depicted a thin braid intertwining with sections of the rainbow-hued stone. Grinning, she tied it securely around her neck, letting it rest coldly on her collarbone.

Satisfied, she melted again. Slipping between the floorboards, she dripped down like melting wax. One floor, two floors, three, four, five. When at last her puddled form splashed against the kitchen's black-and-white tiles, she reformed with a yawn. Stretching like an acrobat about to form a feat, she lit up the kitchen with a flick of her wrist.

Oswald was leaning against the kitchen counter, a cheese toasty and a tall glass of red wine sitting near him. Stripped of his tie, jacket, and well-polished shoes, he looked almost like a college kid. Hard to believe that he was actually five years older than her.

He'd already looked pleasantly deep in thought. But when their eyes met, he lit up like a star. Ruby felt herself do the same. "Oz!" She ran to give him a hug. He gladly accepted...until she lifted him off the ground with a laugh. He yelped as she cuddled him like a teddy bear, his bare feet kicking the empty air. "Ruby!" He patted her shoulder urgently. "Put. Me. Down. Please!"

"Oh, sorry!" Ruby was quick to set him down again. He gasped and heaved as though he'd just run a marathon. Clamping her shoulder with a trembling hand, he grinned up at her. "My, my. You have the strength of a bear."

"Nah," Ruby shrugged. "More like that of a heavy-lifter." She grinned. "Another up-side of having someone play with your genes." Crossing her arms, she looked at her friend. "Now, let's get to the itty-gritty: what do you want to eat?"

"Oh!" Oswald laughed breathily. He gestured to the homely meal on the counter. "Thank you, but I'm all set."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. Even someone on a diet wouldn't eat that little."

Oswald sighed playfully. "Fine. How about some mashed potatoes? I'd like some grits mixed in mine."

Ruby saluted him. "You got it." Quick to collect the ingredients from the fridge, she lay them on the cutting board. "So, how'd the meeting go? Were the press as hungry for scoops as always?"

"Ravenous." Oswald confirmed from inside his goblet. "And once I confronted Aubrey James, they were flocking to me like pigeons over spilled popcorn."

Ruby raised her eyebrows at him. Her four arms halted in the process of peeling and chopping potatoes. "You did what?"

Oswald grinned, revealing his dimples. "I walked up to him whilst he was making a speech and verbally disemboweled him before the crowd. Indeed, they were cheering my name."

Ruby's eyebrows threatened to fly off her round, chinless face. "Holy..." She let out a laugh. Shook her head. "You know how many connections that jackass has? He's got the unions, the courts, legal experts, and the GCPD at his beck and call. You piss him off enough, and he might be tempted to unmask one of your businesses and send you to jail."

"Which is why all I have to do is win the election." Oswald pointed out. "Then, I'll have the power necessary to wipe that grin off his smarmy face."

Ruby chuckled. Two of her hands heated up a saucepan while the other two dropped the potatoe pieces inside. "I hope I'll be there to see it."

"Oh, definitely." Oswald grinned. "You, my dear, will be there every step of the way. If you want." He added quickly.

Ruby blinked. Then, slowly began to grin. "Oh, my..." She let out a loud laugh. Clapped with both pairs of hands. "Yes! Of course! Whatever you have to do, I'll help!" Dropping them, she reabsorbed the lower set of arms. "But I'm afraid I can't help you on where to start or who to call. I can find a few extra hands to spread the word and hand out fliers, but not much else."

Oswald clapped. "Excellent start! But let us not dwell on the tasks tonight. Instead, let us savor the victory." He held up his chalice. Ruby quickly mimicked his gesture with a can of coconut water. "Cheers." They drank.

Half an hour later, they were eating at the dining table where Grace had had her last supper. Ruby listened with wide, attentive eyes as Oswald described his day. He spoke of Aubrey James' speech, of how wooden and robotic it had been, until Oswald had crashed the party. He spoke of his own animated discussion, and how he'd gotten the crowd on his side within minutes. He was so excited and joyful, like a kid back from summer camp. Ruby barely spoke, instead enjoying how Oswald's eyes twinkled, how his cheeks grew rosy with anticipation, how his entire aura glowed like firefly. She could have watched him all night.

Until Oswald mentioned the word 'abominations'.

Ruby's spoonful of mashed potatoes stopped halfway to her mouth. Indigo eyes flitted up. "Come again?"

For the first time that evening, Oswald looked uncomfortable. "Yes. I...may have used that word to describe Strange's experiments."

The silver spoon clattered against the dish. Ruby could feel thorns protruding from her heart. "Were you thinking of me when you did that?"

"Of course not." Oswald quickly held up a hand as Ruby opened her mouth. "I only spouted that nonsense because that was what the voters will want to hear. They don't understand that the experiments are merely people who've been wronged. They will see them as mere boogeymen to be cast out. If I can harness that fear and render it a tool-"

"Then they'll be even more willing to vote for you." Ruby finished even as her eyes grew glassy. "Because they'll see you as a savior." She shook her head. "Oz...I won't lie. You're my best friend."

"And you are mine." Oswald said quickly.

"You know I'd never get in the way of your dreams, even if I don't always agree with them." Ruby went on. "But this...this hurt. Even if it was just a tact to get the public on your side..." She reached up to wipe her eyes before the tears could fall. "I can't help thinking that some part of you's still afraid."

"No!" Oswald jumped to his feet. His hands clutched Ruby's. Both were trembling. He looked directly into her eyes. "Ruby, I swear it. You are one of my greatest treasures."

Ruby's breath died in her throat. She hiccuped. "What?"

"Yes." Oswald continued. "Your friendship and affection is worth more to me than a thousand pieces of gold. I would never risk losing it." One of his hands left hers. Reached up and wiped Ruby's cheek dry. "I am deeply sorry if this tactic is so painful for you, but it's a winning card. Tossing it aside may tip the scale in James' favor." His hand rested on her cheek, cupping it gently. "But I swear to you, whenever you will hear me speak of this issue, know that every word comes from a script. The only creatures that I see as monsters are Fish Mooney and the ones that aid her, regardless of whether Strange played God with their genetic make-up." He paused. Inhaled. "Also...I want to task you with getting every experiment out of Gotham."

Ruby blinked. "But I tried! I got two-thirds of them out, but the rest just won't leave. Even that guy that was on the news, Mr. Freeze...stubborn as a mule."

"Then offer him the stick lest the carrot should fail." Oswald traced Ruby's cheekbone with his thumb. "In this manner, we shall both benefit. The public will see fewer sightings of the experiments, and thus give me credentiality, and you will rest knowing that you helped your fellow misunderstood."

Ruby stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded. "Okay."

Oswald released the breath he hadn't realized that he'd been holding.

"I'll do everything that I can." Ruby hesitated, then took a step back. Oswald was confused until he saw her walk around the table and step into his arms. He was quick to embrace her. He felt his shoulder quickly growing damp from her tears. He stroked her back as she wept silently. They stayed like that for a while. At last, Ruby shifted so that her lips were inches from Oswald's ear. "Promise me that it'll be just an act. Please."

Oswald hugged her tightly. "It will be no different from an actor reciting Shakespeare."

Ruby sighed shakily. Then, slowly, placed her hands on his shoulder blades. Like her trust and hope, the touch was shy but nevertheless present.

* * *

A week passed.

Oswald's support group grew with each speech he gave. Either Butch or Gabe accompanied him each time, ready to shield him from wicked intent. A couple of people attempted to put a bullet in Oswald's brain. It didn't take long for Oswald to return the favor. In order to increase his popularity, he hired a professional hacker to both create a fan-page about Oswald and over a hundred fake accounts with which he dragged Aubrey James' name in the mud. Oswald worked as diligently as ever, demanding respect and due payment from his subservients. But, at Ruby's suggestion, he began to venture out in Gotham's more respectable areas as well. With a bit of luck, this would improve the people's opinion of him and gradually pave the way for success. Of course, charity donations and volunteers in the soup kitchen would help too, but that would come later. When the public would actually begin believing in him.

Meanwhile, Ruby worked twice as diligently as before in tracking down those misunderstood and begging them to desert Gotham. Sometimes, the begging worked. Other times, she'd threatened to kill them before the scared citizens did. With a heavy heart, she sold a few of her gems to finance the creatures' departure. A yellow diamond, rare as it was beautiful, that she had wanted to give to Barbara Kean as a gesture of forgiveness. A morganite necklace which had been the first piece of jewelry bought with her own money. A pair of opal earrings that the Master's aunt had given to her, no longer interested in them. Ruby knew that, even when she'd buy new jewels, she would miss those that had been replaced.

Despite her efforts, Ruby could not find half a dozen or so former Indian Hill residents. None of whom she'd met, but had only learned about via hacking Arkham's confidential files. The more she read, the greater she feared. One was a man who was a 'fountain of youth in reverse'. A woman with the jaws of a piranah. A crocodile-skinned man. All of these were beginning to sound familiar. Not because she had ever encountered them, but because she'd seen them from a distance.

The night that she had pulled Ivy out of her watery grave.

Ruby printed photos of those missing, alongside Fish Mooney's picture, and stapled them all over the city. Beneath each image was a million-dollar reward to whomever could bring them to Oswald Cobblepot, as well as the Van Dahl mansion's address and Ruby's phone number. Days passed, each one as barren as a desert.

In an attempt to distract herself, she aided Oswald's plan to become mayor. After scouring the library for books on leadership, and taking enough notes to fill an orchestra, she began in the small fields: namely, creating 'vote for Cobblepot' pins and posters. She even had him comb his hair back, similar to the style he'd kept during his time brainwashed, and had dozens of photos posted on the Internet. Oswald, in the meantime, gave many speeches, both officially and on the sidewalk. He described the city's problems, and how he intended to fix them. Each discussion was concluded in an explosion of enthusiasm. Many even threw spare change at him, in spite of his protests. More than once, Ruby used those coins to buy them both a coffee afterwards. Bit by bit, the public's view of Oswald became more gray than pitch-black. But there was something missing, and they both knew it.

One night, they sat in the amethyst cave with a series of photographs, fliers, and phone books lying between them. Candles sat in cracked, faded saucers that were slowly filling with warm wax. The gems among the walls glittered in the light like fairy wings.

Oswald tapped his pencil against his teeth. Icy-blue eyes ventured over the seas of ink and paper, searching in vain. "Hmm...we must concentrate on the mayors of Gotham's past. What brought them success? What won the public's adoration? What carved their names in history?"

Ruby chuckled through her mouthful of apple. "Well, the first one's easy: money. Since you're good in that field, I'd say at least one of those goals has been met."

Oswald gave her a look. "Oh, come now. I hardly plan on burning money at this singular shrine."

Ruby winked. "You won't have to." Swallowing her apple, she gestured at the walls. Crooked and uneven, they shimmered brilliantly with deep purple gems. So coated were they in the precious crystal that the normal rock beneath them was entirely invisible. The amethysts, all stuck together like crops of mushrooms, came in every shape and size. A few were no larger than peach pits. Others were as big as Oswald's fist. Ruby dropped her hands. "Amethysts may not be on the top of every jeweller's list, but they're still worth a lot. Give away a few chunks to the right people, and we'll definitely be on the winning streak."

Oswald watched her worriedly. "Are you certain? I mean, this is your hideout. Do you really want to tarnish it?"

"Don't worry about it." Ruby lightly punched his arm. "If these jewels had feelings, they'd be furious at the prospect of never being used. And now, I know they'll be used awesomely."

Oswald searched his friend's face. Looking for incertainty masked by bravado. When he found only the desire to help, he found himself nodding. "Very well. But I won't have Gabe or Butch come trampling in here with their elephant's feet. You go ahead and mine whatever gems you deem valueable."

Ruby's entire face lit up. "Really?"

Oswald nodded. "Do you require any tools?"

Ruby shook her head. "Don't worry. All I really need is a rock hammer and a magnifying glass. I've got ten of the former and the latter can be used with this." She held up her Coca Cola bottle. Oswald blinked, then laughed. "Very well. You're hired."

There was a moment's silence before Oswald asked how Ruby's Indian Hill evacuation was going. Her look of displeasure made him regret posing the question. She played with her bottle, staring at the last few drops in the bottom. "Nothing. I tried, I really did, but so far, no dice."

Oswald's hand found hers. It was cool and soft, like the other side of the pillow. "You cannot blame yourself if misfortune befalls them, do you understand? You cannot offer a life preserver to a man who willingly drowns."

Ruby nodded sadly as she squeezed his hand. "Yeah, I know. But it's still hard not to blame myself." Taking a breath, she shook her head to clear it. "And I came up empty with Fish, too. She's keeping well-hidden. But sooner or later, she'll make a false move."

Oswald bit his lip. A tiny drop of blood blossomed on the pink flesh. "That false move will be her last."

"Caution." Ruby held up an index finger. "You can't let yourself go wild. The public's just starting to give you a chance. If you give them even the tiniest reason to doubt you, Aubrey James will wipe the floor with you. Well," she paused, "he'll try. But if he gets too near, I'll knock his teeth out."

Oswald chuckled. Faint spots of color appeared in his cheeks. "And then I'd string them together to make a necklace for you. After having them polished and dipped in silver, of course."

Ruby looked down at her necklace of garnets, each one like a dark amber tear. She tapped it with her finger. A moment later a veil fell over them, giving them the appearance of silver teeth. The sight was both grisly and gorgeous. She gave Oswald a wolfish grin. "Ruby likey." They shared a laugh.

* * *

When at last they bothered to tell Butch, he was skeptical to say the least. And not only due to the topic of their conversation.

It was an early, cloudy morning that promised to weep. But within Prof. Barker's lab, it was as bright and toasty as a Texan day. Freshly-acquired lights shone down on the arena that Barker had paved for Cobblair. Twenty feet in diameter, it was floored in white tiles and carried roped frames not unlike a boxing ring. Standing within it was none other than Victor Zsaz, dressed in form-fitting black. He had one sleeve rolled up to the elbow, ready to make a cut. Within his utility belt were half a dozen weapons whose nature only he knew about.

Cobblair, dressed in Oswald's silken gray trousers, Ruby's 'Mr. Robot' T-shirt, and mismatched shoes (a well-polished leather shoe on one foot, a battered black sneaker on the other), cracked their knuckles. They chuckled. "Really? This is the best that you could do?"

Barker arched a brow. "You mean you think you can take Zsaz? The man who's killed for money since age fourteen?"

Cobblair smirked. It was unnerving how similar that look was to both Oswald and Ruby. From his seat, Butch fingered his tie. The fusion continued. "Oh, we don't think we can. We know it."

Zsaz chuckled. Reached into his belt and revealed a box cutter. Its edge caught the light and slashed it to bits. "Don't worry, Nutty Professor." He assured Barker. "Penguin's top dog, so I won't hit any major spots." From beneath his hairless brow, his dark eyes twinkled. Whomever had come up with the term 'dark matter' had somehow seen this man's gaze. "I might hit a few bones, though. Just to put the maid in her place."

Cobblair's smirk transformed into a sneer. An arrow sprouted in Zsaz's bicep. The man merely blinked at it, whistled, and grabbed the hilt. Without hesitating he pulled. The arrow ripped out, sounding like someone stabbing a casaba. Blood stained the tiles. Butch stared wide-eyed at the display before turning back to the amalgam. Cobblair held up their arm. The skin was rippling unsteadily against the muscle. They blew on it before lowering their limb. Their eyes - one icy-blue, the other indigo - glimpsed at Barker. "Let's just get this over with." They jumped over the ropes. Cracked their knuckles.

Barker raised his voice. "Okay. Remember, this is only an exercise. Neither should aim to kill, only maim. Whomever remains standing in the next," he eyed his watch, "two minutes will be the winner. Ready..."

Cobblair's neck jerked to the side, cracking loudly, before straightening. Butch glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and sighed.

"Get set..."

"Hey." Zsaz's voice caught his opponent's attention. "Just wanted to let you know: even if you win, it won't be a _real_ victory."

Cobblair blinked. Frowned.

Zsaz smirked devilishly. He gestured at his adversary's body. "This thing is just a cheap tactic to make two weak people stronger. If I were you, I'd stop embarrassing myself."

Two fists knotted.

"GO!"

Zsaz charged. Cobblair didn't.

The bald man brought both fists down, but his opponent was no longer there. Only cracked tiles and dust.

Butch straightened in his seat as he watched Zsaz try to hit the fusion in vain. He extended his arm, the box-cutter in his fingers. Cobblair hopped on his limb like a trained monkey before headbutting him. The impact sent him reeling back. Blood dripped from his nose. He licked it before charging again.

Cobblair deftly kicked the boxcutter out of his hand. It spun in the air before landing in Cobblair's waiting palms. It crumbled within their fingers like a dry twig. Tjey hid their hands behind their back. When they revealed them, the hands had grown to the size of baseball mitts. Zsaz produced two daggers from his belt. This time, they both charged.

Zsaz slashed twice. A red line appeared on the 'Mr. Robot' shirt. Thickened. Another appeared in the outer thigh, tearing through fabric and flesh. Cobblair glimpsed down and scowled. When they spoke, the voice was deeper than usual. "Do you know how many men I had to kill to pay for these pants?!" They charged with renewed fury. Two punches. One in Zsaz's stomach, and the other in the face. Zsaz quickly bounced back, grabbing Cobblair's arm. The fusion smashed face-first against the tiles, then the ropes. Grinning with bloody teeth at the approaching threat.

Cobblair grabbed the blades. Then, with a shout, tossed their owner into the air. Higher and higher, Zsaz flew backards. Remembering an old folks' tale, Cobblair sang:

"Up you go to the first level! Up you go to the second level! Up you go to the third level! HA!"

Zsaz came down. But not before the bullets in his revolver. Cobblair's rubbery arm climbed up the air, diving past the hot lead, and coiled around Zsaz's ankle. Yanked down. With a scream the assassin hit the ground. A cloud of dust rose.

Barker's phone began to beep. Cobblair grinned as they wiped their mouth. Zsaz, covered in dust and sweat, glared hatefully at the fusion. Barker began to clap. "Delicious, Cobblair, simply delicious! You've really come a long way from missing three out of five tennis balls!"

Cobblair chuckled. "Well, fortune favors the bold, after all." They cast a wayward glance over their sore shoulder. "Better luck next time." Zsaz spat.

Butch rose a bit too quickly. "Oookay, uh..." He fingered his tie again. "Is that all? These meetings only last an hour long, right?"

"Yes." Barker smiled. Waved at Cobblair. "See you next time, sir! Miss!" Cobblair waved back before hopping out of the arena. Never once looking at Zsaz, they gathered Oswald and Ruby's coats and umbrellas. Turned to Butch. Their expression was all too similiar to the Penguin's. "Well, don't just stand there! Come."

The two exited the building in silence. As promised, a light drizzle awaited them. Cobblair opened both their participants' umbrellas. Holding them in each hand, they turned to a very tense-looking Butch. "Now that our weekly training's been completed, we would like to discuss something with you."

"Uh-huh." Butch refused to look directly at them.

"Oswald is going to be entering the very competitive field of politics." Cobblair explained. "Specifically, we intend to kick Aubrey James off the throne that is rightfully Oswald's. While temporary, the position of mayor can only bring benefits to our cause."

"I'm sorry." Butch stopped walking. Cobblair did as well. "But, uh, would you mind...separatin'?"

Cobblair blinked.

"I mean, it's one thing if you're just using this... _form_..." Butch had clearly hosted other words for it, "to scare the Sirens or to fly back to the mansion. But...but I've never had to talk to you like this, so...could you separate?" Encouraged by Cobblair's silence, he added, "It's makin' me really uncomfortable."

Cobblair stared at him.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the limousine parked smoothly into its spot. One of the servants nodded in greeting as Oswald climbed out of the passenger's seat, brushing off his impeccable grey suit. But when it was Ruby who emerged from the driver's seat, the chauffer's hat planted amongst her curls, the servant frowned. "Um," he was almost afraid to ask, "where, erm, is Gilzean?"

Ruby sniggered. Handed him the keys. "He's in the truck."

The servant stared at her with eyes the size of hard-boiled eggs. "What?! Why?"

Oswald spoke up. "His free movement was making us uncomfortable."

* * *

When at last Butch was freed, he followed Oswald down one of the dark corridors. Trying to avoid angering him for the second time, he attempted a more diplomatic approach. "I'm not bein' negative. I'm just sayin', it's a big step." Oswald smirked as he took a left, entering one of the living rooms. When Butch inevitably followed, his jaw dropped. "Holy crap."

What was usually one of the quietest rooms of the house had transformed into a politics-themed hive of ringing phones and chattering voices. People sat around the table making buttons and discussing possible activities. Red and blue balloons brushed against the ceiling. A red, white, and blue poster occupied an entire doorframe. It featured a clean-cut Oswald staring off into a secure future, his hand over his heart. Written in fine script were the words: **Oswald Cobblepot for Mayor. Make Gotham Safe Again!**

Ruby, showered and changed in a fucshia sweater and jeans, combed through the crowd with trays heavy with drinks. When she caught Oswald's eye, she blushed and mouthed her greeting. Oswald gave her a little bow before venturing further in the room, his cane thumping as securely as his pulse. "Gotham is rife with crime, Butch. Who better than a criminal to clean it up?" Butch was barely listening. His blue eyes scanned the room with a mixture of stupor and amazement. As the shock subsided, he turned to Oswald. The man had his hand on an assistant's shoulder as he eyed her handiwork.

"Okay," Butch began, "look, you know I faced the worst Gotham has to offer. But politicians? They scare me."

Ruby stopped by his side. "Wow. Remind me to dress up as one for Halloween." Butch quickly looked down. Giggling, the young woman held the tray out to him. "Thirsty? I got hot tea, iced tea, egg nogg, coffee, vodka, lemonade, hot cocoa-"

"This'll do." Butch grabbed a mug of egg nog just to shut her up. Ruby giggled again before disappearing into the crowd. Butch looked after her. Shuddering, he sipped the drink. His eyebrows flew up. Wow. It was actually pretty damn tasty. He took another, longer sip.

"The people of Gotham are with me." Oswald stated. "They are scared, which means angry, and who've they got to turn to? Aubrey James?" He snorted. "Please. That man is a hack." Turning away from the active buzzing of the room, he retreated to the fireplace with Butch at his heels. Above it, a solemn portrait of a well-loved man hung in peace. "This is my chance to create a legacy. One that my father would be proud of."

Seeing no way out, Butch sighed. "Well, you got my vote." Oswald chortled with glee.

In the back of the room, one of the phones began to ring. When it rang thrice without being answered, Ruby set down the trays and picked up the receiver. "Van Dahl residence." A moment later, her face went from blank to confused to excited. "Oh, my...hold on a second, please." Setting it down, she bolted across the room. "Oz!"

Oswald spun around at her urgent tone. "My dear, what is it?"

Ruby's grin threatened to split her face in two. "You'll never guess who I just got on the line."

Oswald leaned against his cane. "Considering we were sharing a mind not half an hour ago, try me." Butch shuddered at the memory and focused his efforts on the egg nogg.

Ruby laughed. "It's Aubrey. Freaking. James! He wants to meet you tomorrow at lunch. Alone."

Oswald quirked a brow. "Oh, is that right?" He turned to Butch. Shrugged and chuckled once more.


	43. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Aubrey James' instructions were very specific. Rossini's. 1:30 p.m. No back-up.

But he'd never said anything about a friend watching from afar. Or showing up ten minutes early.

Oswald straightened in the taxi's faded leather seat. His pointed nose tickled from all of the stale cigarette smoke. Even with the windows open, it seemed that He brushed off some lint from his sleeves, then proceeded to spray some additional cologne on his thin neck. As he moved, he felt the zircon necklace rub comfortingly against his collarbone. It was like having a friend already nearby. Riding this cab to avoid unnecessary attention suddenly seemed less jarring than it had a moment ago.

He wiped condensation from the window. Rossini's was a very fancy restaurant, albeit nothing compared to Maroni's. Wide windows gave passenger-bys the perfect view of what they couldn't afford. Themed in emerald-green and rusty red, it shone with soft candlelight. Musicians played delicate cello music. Nearly every table, crowned with a vase of freshly-cut roses, was bustling with couples and families of upper societal crust. Except for one. Only one man was seated there.

Oswald scowled. Paying the driver, he climbed out into the soggy afternoon. His cane clacked against the cracked pavement. Just before entering, he halted. Confused by the absence, he glanced at his jewel-encrusted watch. Where was-?

A gentle tapping on the shoulder had him spinning. Ruby was standing before him, panting but grinning. "Sorry." she extracted a hairband from her coat's pocket. "But there was a long line at the store. I came as soon as I could, though."

"Ah," Oswald smiled in spite of his inner shell of anxiety. Ruby had that undeniable effect on him. "Worry not. What matters now is that we are here. And..." He hesitated as he looked her over. "You chose a lovely dress. Perfect camouflage indeed."

Ruby looked down herself before giggling at him. Did a little spin. Even though Oswald had told her to buy a dress that would mask her as one of the elite, he hadn't anticipated how lovely she'd have looked. Ruby wore a loose-fitting dress of deep blue, with thin veins of gold spreading across it. A crystal-blue shawl was draped over her shoulders. Simple black slippers adorned her feet. But best of all was the jewelry: a necklace of lapis lazulis adorned her collarbone, dark and glassy as fermented tears. A teal broch shaped like an iris was pinned to her dress, just below the collar.

Oswald held up a finger. "But," he took the hairband from her, "there is just one thing missing." Ruby immediately understood. Tilting her head forward, she permitted him to slide the band up her forehead and atop her head. All of the wild, uncombed curls that normally framed her face were pulled back.

He found himself smiling fondly at Ruby as she kept touching the hairband, tempted to remove it. Noticing his expression caused two rosy spots to appear in her cheeks. "What?"

"Nothing." Oswald replied. "It's just...odd to see you with your hair back." He gestured to his own visage. "I can fully see your face."

Ruby looked more than a little uncomfortable. "Is that good?"

Oswald nodded. "Very good." Then, somewhat sadly, he switched back to professional gears. "Remember the plan. You walk in, say that you reserved under the name-"

"'Fratelli'." Ruby cut him off with a playful eye-roll. "Yeah, Gina Fratelli." She chuckled lightly. "Next time, I pick the false name. Then, I order something quick that can be prepared quickly. I keep an eye on you and Mayor Muffin-top. If things get edgy, I'll be there." She placed a hand on Oswald's arm. "Trust me, dude. Nothing's gonna happen to you. Not with me around."

Oswald covered her hand with his. "The same goes for you, my dear." He squeezed her fingers before letting go. He straightened. "Now, Operation Intimidation can commence."

Ruby groaned playfully as she disappeared inside. "Why, oh why, did I show you _'Space Balls'_?" Oswald chuckled as he eyed his watch. For the next seven minutes he kept switching his gaze between the time, Ruby, and Aubrey James. As the minute hand marched inevitably forward, Ruby ordered...a tiramisu? Oswald rolled his eyes as his friend tasted a small spoonful, then lit up with delight. James scarfed down a huge plateful of spaghetti, drowning it in two glasses of red wine. Wow. It would seem that someone was more nervous than he would have liked to admit.

At last, the minute hand traced the number six. Oswald straightened, brushed himself off, and limped inside. The bell tinged cheerily as the door swung open. As he stepped inside, the damp coolness of outside fell away like cobwebs. A warm comfort took its place. The air was rich with various cooking scents: sweet cinnamon, roasting bacon, fresh melon, smoky beef, and musky mushrooms. Music played softly, nearly muffled completely by the bustling chatter. As he hobbled, he caught Ruby's eye. She winked and flashed him a quick thumbs-up. He winked back, comforted, and made a beeline for James. The buffoon didn't even look up as Oswald sat down, keeping his cane at hand.

"A public place. Smart." He complimented his adversary.

Aubrey James arched his bushy brows as he kept chewing. He glimpsed up at Oswald. For a mere second, then reverted his gaze to his oily pasta. "Knowing your flare for the dramatic, I felt it necessary."

Oswald sniggered. "How flattering." His pale face grew serious. "But why exert myself needlessly? The public sees me as a man of action, of change. You?" He resisted the urge to scoff. "You are yesterday's sad joke."

James glanced up at him again. His gaze was supposed to look threatening.

Oswald continued, picking up speed like a steam train. "While Galavan humiliated this city, where were you?" He put on an embarrassed expression. "In a warehouse with a box on your head."

Aubrey James stared at him for a minute. Then, he spoke. "You're an unstable lunatic, Penguin, and people are gonna see right through you." Oswald's expression grew tense. His hold on the cane whitened his knuckles. Little did he know that, for a mere moment, Ruby felt exactly the same emotion as he. Quickly paying the bill, she slipped on the shawl again and crept towards the table. Oswald, meanwhile, kept his jaw taut as James went on. "I've got the judges, the union, the GCPD, and a whole team of legal experts behind me. What do you got?"

Oswald leaned forward with a smile. "I have me."

Aubrey's ugly face contorted as he laughed hoarsely. "You're _psychotic!_ "

Oswald shot up.

Two men shot out of the bathrooms, their Tommy guns aiming at Oswald's face. A waiter, too, dropped his tray. In its place was a small handgun. There came a few gasps from the other customers, who remained frozen in their seats. Oswald stared at the weapons through a steel-like visage.

"Not this time, Penguin!" Aubrey growled. "My head will not be put in a box again."

Oswald's expression slowly morphed into one of amusement. "Ohh, you. So smart! Always one step ahead." James smirked, looking very sure of himself. Until, that is, Oswald snapped his fingers. Everyone in the restaurant rose, guns clacking as they were loaded. Nuzzles were pointed at James' men, as well as the man in person. "Never three." Oswald added.

In that moment, James' men had their guns knocked off by an unseen force. They stared at their empty hands before a rumbling noise distracted them. A mound of clay rose behind James' chair. Quickly took shape. Ruby grinned as she held up both arms. There, tangled in threads of sinew and blood vessels, were the two Tommy guns. From where he stood, Oswald could see the handgun sticking out of his friend's shoulder. One of her gun-arms nuzzled James' jaw. He looked ready to pass out. His expression was the helping of sprinkles on Oswald's sundae.

He chuckled. "I'm so pleased that you finally have the chance to meet my good friend, Ruby Sinclair."

"Oh, you're not the only one, buddy." Ruby caressed the man's flabby cheek with her gun-hands. "Too bad I can't turn him into a pincushion for bullets."

Aubrey blinked up at her through the rivers of sweat pouring down his face. "What?"

"Indeed, my dear." Oswald stepped forward, reaching into his pocket. Turning to Aubrey, he clarified. "No, I do not want you dead. What kind of fun would an election be if I were the only candidate, huh?" Promptly, he placed one of the 'Vote Cobblepot' pins onto the man's jacket. At this, Ruby let go. Her arms glowed brightly for a second. Then, the Tommy guns fell uselessly to the ground. Then, wincing, Ruby reached up and plucked the handgun out of her shoulder. The wound closed up in an instant. Straightening, she stood beside Oswald. He took her hand and squeezed it in thanks.

"You're right about one thing, though. I do need a little help." He smirked. "And I have just the right person in mind."

* * *

Stopping only to give Ruby time to change into more casual clothing, the duo made their way to the docks. The day was rapidly darkening, with more than a few showers dampening the air even more. By four o'clock that afternoon, there was hardly a trace of natural light. At first, Oswald thought that this was the reason behind Ruby's trembling. That was why, as they awaited for their ferry to leave, he bought her an overcoat. Touched, she slipped it on. But even then her shaking wouldn't cease.

Oswald placed a hand on her back. "Are you alright?"

Ruby gulped, not looking at him. "Y-yeah, m'fine."

Oswald gave her a look. Ruby noticed his silence and played with a lock of her hair. "What?"

"Really?" Oswald asked. "We've been living under the same roof for eighteen months, and you expect me to believe that?"

Ruby deflated like a week-old balloon. Puffing out some misty air, she crossed her arms and leaned against the barnacle-coated fence. "Okay, I'll spill. It's just..." She shrugged. "I'm not sure about this plan."

Oswald opened his mouth to answer. Ruby continued before he could. "Look, I know you've been visiting him and giving him gifts...but he's been in there for months. And even before then, he did horrible things. He strangled his girlfriend to death, framed Gordon of being a cop-killer, and..." She sighed. "He wasn't there for you."

Oswald stared at her.

Ruby, sensing his hurt, placed her hands on his shoulders. "Oz...I know he took you in. Healed you. But you were in Arkham for three months and he made no effort to stay in touch. I'm sorry, but..." She shook her head. "He hurt you, and that's something I just can't forgive."

"Ruby..." Oswald mimicked her gesture. She felt a bit more secure by his gentle grip. "I...I truly am touched by your concern. But I've seen the light come back to his eyes. I have seen time heal some of his wounds, and I believe that I can heal the rest."

Ruby looked into his icy-blue eyes and saw nothing but pure determination. Now that she thought about it, that may have been Oswald's most dominant trait. Even when he'd been under Strange's influence, he had been determined to be a good son to Master. When he'd freed himself...or rather, his hatred had freed him...that determination had only grown tenfold. No one could get to where he was without such passion.  
Just as no one could talk him out of decision. Not even someone with whom he'd shared a body.

Ruby sighed. "Okay. Just...don't do that at the cost of your own wounds, okay?"

Oswald exhaled. A mixture of exasperation and affection. He placed a hand on her cheek. "Of course." Ruby gave a nod of thankfulness. A loud horn pierced the cloudy heavens, turning both their heads. Oswald's face lit up. Seeing it, Ruby felt unable to pout or worry any longer. Pushing it aside, she elbowed him. When he eyed her curiously, she winked. "Last one at the bar pays for the hot chocolate."

She could hear him yelling from the moment the door closed.

* * *

Forty minutes later saw Oswald back through Arkham's gates. On a bad day, it seemed.

Inmates thrashed and fought against the restraints of both the police and the orderlies. Tables and chairs were either shattered or flipped over. Screams, grunts, and curses echoed across the cracked walls. It was the very definition of 'madness'. Yet he kept his back straight and his expression cordial. As a true criminal would...and a mayor.

The new director cleared his throat. "I'm not sure who schedueled this meeting, Mr. Cobblepot. But...as you can see, I have been burdened with restoring order to this facility. And that is no easy task."  
As if on cue, an inmate pinned an orderly to the wall and bit his chin. Screams and blood squirted in rapid succession.  
Oswald was tempted to laugh out loud. From the looks of it, all of the Olympic gods combined could restore order to this crazy farm. Instead of saying that, he replied, "A man of your reputation should not have been sent here to clean up Strange's wreckage."

The new director seemed pleased. "Indeed."

Behind them, an inmate yelled as a cop and an orderly seized his limbs and carried him towards the stairs.

Oswald stepped into the small, cramped office. The new director quickly shut the door behind them. Looking around, Oswald wrinkled his nose. It was small and cramped, with most of the limited space being occupied by metal file cabinets. A cheap-looking desk played host to a huge pile of documents. The room reeked of cheap coffee and sweat. Making a mental note to have a sponge bath the moment he returned home, he perched on his cane. "You are aware of my ambitions? For office?"

The new director nodded. "Oh, yes." He stood in front of Oswald like a kid expecting his birthday present early.

Oswald decided to at least offer him a chance to earn it. "Once mayor, I can grant you whatever position you care to request. Gotham's Head of Psychiatry, Chair of Gotham's Board of Health, ect."

The new director tilted his head like a parrot. "In exchange for what, exactly?"

Oswald smiled. "Even though my victory is inevitable, I fear my campaign is missing one key element." When the new director frowned, Oswald went on. "A colleague of mine is locked up here. Unfairly."

The new director looked more confused than shocked or angry. "Are you suggesting that I release a convicted criminal out in the streets?"

Oswald's smirk widened. "Well, yes. For your betterment."

The new director shook his head. "But it would take extensive patient analysis, probational hearings, and so on-"

A loud, shrilling ringing overran the senses. Both men were showered in red light. A robotic voice boomed, "Lock-down is now in full effect."

Oswald smirked. Took a step forward so that the imbecile could hear him. "Of course, there's always Plan B: I give you nothing, but I make sure that you remain here forever. Not as a warden. No. I would see you scrubbing floors and emptying latrines."

The new director looked ready to pass out. Delicious. Oswald smirked and shrugged. "Options!" The man laughed with him, cringing throughout it all.


	44. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Night came, and with a fleeting change.

Usually, at this time Edward Nygma found himself curled up on his bench/bed with a borrowed book in his hands, trying to memorize the passages that hadn't already ingrained themselves into his brain. He would listen to the insane screams and howls as one might distant traffic. Then, when the lights would go out, he would close his eyes and wonder if he would ever open them again.

Instead, he found himself in his old clothes - a checkered shirt, khakis, a green sweater, and a red diamond-patterned tie - and bathed for the first time in weeks. He was standing outside the asylum's gate, with the new warden before him and a slip of paper that would influence his future.

Edward stared at it, then flitted his eyes back up at the warden. He flipped the paper over so that the other man could read the words that formed his freedom. "I'm sane." He stated in a gravelly voice.

"Absolutely. One hundred percent." The warden was shaking like a leaf from the other side of the gate. "I examined you myself."

"And the murder of Miss Kringle?" Edward asked.

"Committed while you were insane." The warden said quickly.

"Officer Dordy?"

"Insane."

"Officer Pygny?"

"Insane."

"And now I'm-"

"Sane." The new warden sounded as if he were reciting an unfamiliar line from a script. "And not responsible for any of the crimes done during your sickness. You're a free man, Edward." The gate began to squeal like a stuck pig as the warden started to close it. Edward's hand halted the process. "Not to look a gifthouse in the mouth," he said, "but how did you-?"

Headlights blared in his direction, temporarily blinding him. Turning around, he saw something so strange he questioned his own eyes. A fine black limousine sat before him like a growling panther. Shining like a dark crystal, with tinted glass, its presence both reassured and startled him. For a moment it simply sat there, seemingly evaluating him.

Then, the window on the driver's seat slid down. A head of curly, fair hair popped out. Beneath that mop of untamed hair was a very unremarkable face: round and chinless as the moon, with a simple, straight nose and big eyes. Nothing memorable in the least, unless one counted the garnet earrings dangling like jewelled grapes from her lobes. Yet she smirked knowingly at him. "Sup, bro." She greeted casually. "Want some weed?"

Edward frowned. Laughter emanated from the car's interior. He froze as the cackles reached his ears...and his heart. He waited, almost scared, as another head popped out. But this one was far more familiar.

Oswald grinned at him. "Hello, old friend."

Edward slowly smiled. Turning back to the new warden, he said, "Never mind."

* * *

The ride back home was a peculiar one. At Ruby's suggestion, given the late hour and the lack of ingredients in the fridge, they stopped at the Big Bang Burger. It was a large, well-lit fast food joint that was kept clean by the high school staff. Everything was space-themed, from the star pattern on the ceiling to the rockets painted on the tables. The food was a bit greasy and very generous in size, but it was the best thing to have passed Edward's lips in months. Oswald and Ruby watched with some amusement as he attacked the Comet Burger, complete with two beef patties and nearly half a head of lettuce. The two friends shared a look as mustard and ketchup stained the green sweater without Edward's noticing. He barely looked up or said a word whilst he ate, which led to the other two casually conversing.

With the exception of a few questions.

"So, how are you living with Oswald, again?" Edward asked tautly.

Ruby quirked a brow. "I've been living there for nine and a half years now. I was a maid to his father, Elijiah Van Dahl."

Oswald smiled. Stroked her hand. Ruby blushed and looked away.

Edward licked his lip. "I see." He took to eating again.

Ruby stared at him for a second, unsure of what to say, before trying her own card. "So, uh, Edward. Oswald tells me you worked in forensics. How was that?"

Edward wanted to reply that he doubted that she'd understand. Instead, he answered with, "Fine."

"So I heard." With a chuckle, Ruby nudged Oswald from across the table. "If only he'd had a zircon necklace too, eh? That may have warded off the negative energy."

Edward groaned.

Ruby stopped. Blinked. "Ugh?" She echoed. "Geology and stone symbolism is 'ugh' to you?"

"No, I'm sorry." Edward replied. "As a man of science, I know how important people's superstitions are to them."

Ruby's eyes narrowed. Oswald, seeing the red flags, quickly rushed in. "So, how's your tofu burger?"

It took a moment for Ruby's dark expression to lighten. Doing her best to smile at him, she held her food out to Oswald. "Wanna try?"

Chuckling at the intimate gesture, he complied. Taking a small bite, he was overcome with delight. The food was soft and light, wonderfully seasoned and scented with origano. "Very nice. It is definitely worth the three additional dollars in ordering it."

Ruby playfully stuck her tongue out at him before taking another bite. When Edward made a slight moan, she chuckled drily. "Think we should order another for Wolf Man over here?"

"Oh, no." Oswald shook his head. "He's got a stomach no larger than a gourd. If he forces himself to eat, then he'll be throwing it back up." He shuddered. "Believe me, I know. I made him a cucumber lasagna when we were living together, and put too many helpings on his plate."

"Zucchini." Edward corrected him between mouthfuls.

Ruby rolled her dark blue eyes. "Oh, it speaks." Her gaze landed on the untouched platter of curly fries on Oswald's dish. "Not in the mood for deep-fried potatoes?"

"No." Oswald replied. "I simply dislike curly fries. If I wanted to eat something curly, I would order Medusa's head."

"Oh, fine." Ruby smirked. "I'll take 'em, then!" She laughed at Oswald's expression as she swiped the paper dish away. Edward munched busily away, eyeing the two from the corner of his eye. Jealousy bubbled within him like witch's brew. Seeing the relaxed, contented expression on Oswald's face as he interacted with this woman...and how casually they took food from each other's plates...it was as if they were lovers. Yet there was no engagement ring on the woman's finger. An emerald ring, yes; on the index finger. A turquoise ring, also; on the middle finger of her other hand. But no ring symbolizing a promise to wed.

The absence quelled Edward's anger a bit. He knew Oswald well enough to know that the Penguin would never wait too long before proposing. His complete lack of romantic experience rendered him emotionally impatient.

The girl - what was her name? Topaz? Jade? - noticed him watching. Her smile slipped off like a veil. "Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer."

"You are satisfied?" Oswald turned to the bespeckled man.

"Yes, thank you." Edward straightened. Brushing himself clean, he kept his eyes on his friend. "And not simply for the dinner. Oswald...you got me out of there. Thank you. How can I hope to repay you?"

"Oh." Oswald looked away flustered. "Don't worry about it, Ed. You deserve a bit of leisure after all that you've endured."

"At least let me pay for dinner." Edward insisted. "They returned the thirty dollars that were confiscated upon my arrest."

"Wow, thirty bucks?" Ruby murmured in her raspberry slushie. "You've got it like Richie Rich."

Neither man heard her. Oswald eyed Edward with concern. "What about the rest of your funds? Your savings?"

Edward shook his head. "Gone. Or, rather, blocked. All of my credit cards are useless, and my funds have been scattered to the four winds." He scratched the back of his scalp nervously. "I'm afraid all I have left in the world is in the little suitcase back in the trunk."

Ruby's stern expression softened a bit. She knew all too well how that felt. When she had left Arkham at the tender age of eighteen, she had felt like a caterpillar thrust in a world of butterflies. Or, rather, moths.

Her sole possessions had been the jewels that she had inherited from her grandmother, the hand-me-downs on her back, and the certificate. Nothing else. No I.D of any kind. Furthermore, she had tried to call her parents only to hear their secretaries asking her to call again later. When she had told them that she was their daughter and needed at least some money, they had laughed. And told her that the great model Opal Sinclair didn't have any children, and neither did her brother Jasper.

That had been the greatest blow of them all. For the first time, Ruby had realized the truth. That her parents had been so utterly ashamed and disgusted by her that they had concealed her very existence. Had left her alone without a word or means to survive.

For that reason she felt her hostility towards Nygma thawing. Not quite room temperature yet, but a bit less frigid.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out across the table. Her hand rested on Edward's shoulder. He jolted and stared at the hand. Then, at her. Ruby maintained eye contact. "Look...it gets better. I know it seems hopeless right now. But bit by bit, things'll work out."

Oswald gave her a grateful smile. Seeing it warmed Ruby's cheeks. Edward said nothing. He just stared at her, incapable of figuring her out.

Patting his shoulder, Ruby wiped her mouth. "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm exhausted. Wanna call it a night?"

Oswald and Edward both nodded. The former rose. Realizing his intent, Ruby placed a hand on his arm. "If you want, I can treat you."

"Oh, my dear." Oswald lightly covered her hand with his own. "You already treated me last week at the Ritz."

"All you had was the salad!" Ruby protested.

"And it was the size of a fish tank. Dear girl, relax." Oswald patted her hand. "This simple, yet delicious meal will hardly bankrupt me."

Sighing with resignation, Ruby let go. "Fine. But next time we go out, I'm paying!"

"Very well." Oswald chuckled as he claimed his cane and limped away.

Now left alone, Ruby and Edward couldn't make eye contact. An uncomfortable silence fell over them, thick as a damp shawl. Rubbing the back of his neck, Edward stared out the window with empty eyes. Still trying to figure out how much of all this was a dream and what was mere fantasy. Ruby cleared her throat. Edward's eyes flitted toward her for a second. The young woman wiped her hands clean with the paper napkins. "Um...you'll be staying in the guest room on the ground floor. It's got its own private bathroom. I've already supplied it with soap, shampoo, and conditioner, so you don't need to buy anything yourself. There are a few clothes in the closet, too. We had to guess. Hopefully, everything will fit right."

Edward didn't speak. Acknowledge her in any way. Ruby sighed. She rose from her seat. "Tell Oz I'm starting the car up."

"It's 'Oswald'." Edward piped up.

Ruby stopped. Turned back to face him. "Pardon?"

"His name is _Oswald_ , not 'Oz'." Edward spoke slowly, as if to a child. A very stupid child. "So don't call him by that childish nickname."

Ruby's jaw tightened. She leaned forward so that they were practically touching noses. "Listen to me very closely." She hissed. "You should be grateful for Oz's generosity. He still sees a friend in you, even though you've done nothing for him since he got out of Arkham. I, on the other hand, have been his friend and partner since he moved into his father's ancestral home. We've been through more than you can imagine, and we've reached an intimacy that you can only dream about."

Edward's eyes widened. "You mean you two-?"

"No." Ruby cut him off. "Not that. Better."

Edward's eyebrows flew up.

"So you have absolutely no right to tell me what to call him. As long as he likes it, I like it. End of story." Ruby slammed her fist against the table hard enough to make the plastic trays rattle. A few nearby customers turned around in fright. Edward felt a cold sweat sweeping across his body. Feeling like a mouse in the presence of a very hungry cat. "Tell Oz I'll bring the car in." She repeated in a flat, cold voice. Then, just like that, she stomped out. Edward was left trembling in the booth, wondering if his bought freedom was worth it.

* * *

A week passed.

That moment at the Big Bang Burger solidified Edward and Ruby's distaste for each other. Each day that passed had them avoiding each other at all costs. It proved to be fairly easy, considering how large the Van Dahl mansion was. It also helped that they were stationed in different activities. While Ruby posted fliers and collected support from the masses, Edward stayed indoors with Oswald discussing tactics to use. In the mornings, Edward and Oswald shared breakfast long after Ruby had prepared everything. Then, in the evenings, Oswald and Ruby would spend time together while Edward retreated into a good book. All the same, the two were forced to put up with each other during meals. During which time Ruby found every excuse to leave the table.

Once, Edward stopped her on the way to the kitchen. He held out the glass that she'd filled at the beginning of lunch. "Look," he said, "I know it may be difficult to put fruit in a blender and push a button," he wiggled the drink, "but this isn't a 'smoothie'. It's a 'lumpy'."

Oswald stiffened. "Ed." His tone was neutral. Nothing like the warm, honeyed voice he'd been using with him until this point.

"No, no. It's fine. Evidently, my smoothie-making skills have gotten rusty." Ruby said through clenched teeth. All while never breaking eye contact with Edward. Forcing a smile that would send any child hiding under the bed, she took the glass. "Fine. Let me fix it." She rushed into the kitchen before she could lose her temper.

"Thank you." Edward leaned back in his chair. When he saw Oswald's expression, he held his hands out. "What?"

Oswald gently set down the spoon. Pushing his leek soup aside to avoid spilling it, he leaned forward. "Is there something that I should know?"

"No, why?" Edward asked.

"Because, yes, you are my friend." Oswald stated. "But Ruby is as well. That is why I will ask you to avoid disrespecting her in the future."

Edward stared at the black-haired man, flabberghasted. Then, the shock was quickly replaced with hurt. So, Oswald had replaced him. And with what? Some gold-digger with no education, no connections, no life of which to speak?

The man cleared his throat. Looking down, he pushed his black-rimmed glasses up. "Understood. It won't happen again."

Oswald nodded. "Thank you." Even as he tried to eat, he found his appetite curdling. This was not he had expected. He had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that Ruby and Edward would get along through him. Perhaps even become friends. That would have been a dream come true to him. But apparently, that was asking too much.

But maybe there was a way to remedy the situation.

"Ed," he straightened, "tomorrow, Ruby and I have to go somewhere. And, if you like, you may come along."

"Is it business?" Edward asked without looking up from his chicken breast.

"Not exactly." Oswald replied with a smirk. "But it is important to us both. It would please me to share it with you."

Edward cocked a brow. Daring to look up. "Does it have anything to do with Ruby's power?"

"Yes." Oswald grinned. "I have only told you the tip of the iceberg. So, what say you?"

Edward was silent for a beat. Then, he replied, "If the answer is not no, nor maybe, what is it?"

Oswald blinked. "Yes?"

"Yes."

Oswald grinned. "Great! Then, right before elections, we shall go to the professor." He resumed eating his soup with relish. Edward as well, albeit for a different reason. While he had yet to see Ruby utilize her so-called 'clay' powers, Oswald's descriptions had been enough to capture his interest. Whatever would happen within twenty-four hours, he would bring a notebook.

Meanwhile, Ruby poured the re-blended smoothie into the glass. She was about to return to the dining hall when an idea appeared before her. One so infinitely devious, yet very childish, that she couldn't resist.

A moment later she returned with the glass in her hand and a smile on her face. "Here ya go, Nygma."

"Thanks." Edward sipped from the smoothie and brightened. "Oh," he turned to her with wide eyes, "This is delicious! Did you add anything?"

"A pinch of cinnamon, and a little extra sugar." Ruby was smirking. "And something else _really_ special."

"Mm." Edward took another, longer drink. "Please, make this more often."

Ruby's smile was huge at this point. She wiped her mouth, suddenly realizing that her bottom lip was still wet. "Oh, I will."


	45. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Edward slept well during that period. As a youth, he had often been plagued by surreal versions of his bullies and father every time he'd closed his eyes. Then, as an adult, he had often dreamed of being outsmarted. By anyone, really...the women he tried to court, his bosses, the bloody postman...anyone. The mere notion had always driven him bonkers, for as far back as he could remember.

Yet ever since he'd moved under Oswald's roof, he had been sleeping like an infant.

But that night, the night before the appointment with Professor Barker...whomever the hell he was...Edward barely slept a wink. Curiousity gnawed at him like a moth on a wool blanket. What, he kept wondering, did Oswald want him to see? And why would a scientist have to be involved? In fact, now that Edward thought about it, he'd heard about Barker. He'd been stripped of his license because of his peculiar interests and home-brewed medicines. The underworld hadn't wanted him, either, because of how tame and pacific he actually was.

Did it have something to do with Ruby's status as an experiment?

What was he saying? Of _course_ it did!

But what, exactly, did her abilities include? Oswald had muttered something here and there during his visits, but had never directly stated what his friend could do.

Now abandoning all hopes of sleeping, Edward tossed the blankets aside. With a flick of his wrist, the bedroom was flooded with soft light. His was a generous bedroom, larger than the 'sleeping section' back in his apartment. From what he'd heard, Oswald had had the entire room repainted a deep, forest green. Edward's favorite color. There was a generous amount of furniture as well: a king-sized bed with satin sheets, a polished desk carved from rosewood, and a wardrobe twice as wide as Butch. Not to mention the private bathroom and the scented sacks of herbs in each drawer. It was like living in a five-star hotel...without the daily bill, of course.

Except for Ruby's almost daily receipts for dinner. Edward wondered if she did this because she thought he might be able to pay them one day, or just out of spite.

He was leaning towards the latter.

Brushing off his pajamas, Edward sat down at his desk. His new laptop slept. He reactivated it with the push of a button. Then, carefully, he made his way into Arkham Asylum's virtual files. It was hardly a challenge when '12345' was the password for entry. It took him a bit longer to find Ruby Sinclair's file, having to go back almost a decade into the past.

What he read chilled him to the core.

At the first light of dawn, Edward bathed, dressed, and ate by himself. As per usual, he mixed Wheaties with Fruit Loops. Any psychology buff would have claimed that this metaphorically meant that he liked combining his unhappy childhood with his more respectful adulthood. But in reality, he just loved how these two cereals complimented each other.

He'd just finished rinsing the bowl when he heard a door quietly close. Instantly alert, he hurried to the window. Stark black against the periwinkle sky was a familiar figure, heading for the family crypt. Biting his lip, calculating his chances, Edward decided to give it a shot. Either that, or put up with the curiousity screaming in his ear all day.

Keeping sixty paces behind Ruby, he kept his steps as quiet as possible against the cut grass. When Ruby ducked behind the crypt's door, he waited until he'd counted ten 'Mississippis' before stepping inside.

Leaving the early morning light behind, Edward found himself in a chamber of cold dampness. With only the occasional scented candle fighting the shadows, the place looked as if it belonged to another time. With detached fascination he looked at the coffins. At the names and dates beneath. Some had, from the quality of their final resting place, made a name for themselves in life. Others had not.

Soft whispers floated through the air like dust. Edward followed it, careful not to make a noise. Any sound that he may make would be amplified. Ruby would have his head. And Oswald, too. He did seem to always be on her side.

Ruby's sweatshirt, which Edward now realized was a deep purple rather than black, was hunched over. The back of Ruby's curly head was lowered as if in prayer. As Edward edged closer, he heard her speak:

"Oh, Master. I can't believe it's been a year since you..." A faint sniffle. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should've prevented it. I knew that Grace was depraved. But...not enough to poison her own husband." She sniffed again. "Your...your bedroom. We never touched it. And your painting? I keep it clean and tidy. It's the least I can do. The estate is yours, after all. I still think it is."

Edward immediately understood. He may have disliked...pretty much everything about Ruby, he knew that he had no right to invade upon her grieving. Bowing his head, he headed out the door. Silent as the crypt walls.

Ruby opened her eyes, where more tears flowed. She turned around, a faint crevice on her brow. Seeing no one, she shrugged it off. Turning back to the coffin, she sighed. "I'll have to polish it again soon." Her fingertips lightly traced the deep pink lillies. "These are still good, though."

Not for the first time, Ruby's heart twisted in her ribcage. This was all that she had left of the kind man who'd taken her in. A rotting corpse in a stone crypt. A few lillies, changed every fortnight, and a couple of amethysts from her grotto. Nothing else. No more kind words. Pats on the back when she exceeded what he'd asked of her. Hugs for special occasions like the Master's birthday or Christmas. No more trinkets along with her monthly pay, unknown to anyone but the two of them.

Ruby covered her face with her hands. Wept until she no longer could.

* * *

Before any of them knew it, the appointment with Barker drew near. That was why, with a mere twenty minutes to spare, they all piled into the limousine.

"Okay," Edward flipped through his booklet, "we have until 1:30 until the rest of the election team shows up. It is currently 9:00, so-"

"We'll be there in time, yes." Ruby groaned from the driver's seat. "Dude, relax! This is the third time you've mentioned this."

Edward smile tightly. "One must always keep track of time, lest it keeps track of you."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Great. Any more fortune-cookie quotes you wanna share before we go?"

Oswald sipped at his wine. Saying nothing.

Edward thought about it for a second, then nodded. "If you have to play Owl City again, I'm going to jump out of this car and let the road do with me as it will."

Oswald drank deeper.

Ruby's finger hovered over the radio. Then, with a sigh, she nodded. "Fine." Her hand dropped. A moment later, the limousine rolled smoothly out of the parking space. Oswald and Edward filled the silence by discussing business matters, while Ruby cast a glance at them when she could. A two-pronged fork of jealousy stabbed at her as she watched them. Edward and Oswald had loosened up since that night at the Big Bang Burger. Time had seemingly melted away for them, and any awkwardness that may have existed had died. The men's body language showed that they were quite comfortable with each other. The easy comfort on Oswald's face confirmed that he'd forgotten all about Ed's virtual abandonement.

But really, did he really have to cling on to the one time that Edward let him down? Edward had saved Oswald's life once, and for that, Ruby was grateful.

Who knew? Maybe she was simply instilling her own sense of abandonement onto her friend. Just because she held a grudge, did not mean that Oswald was obligated to follow suit.

As they took a left, a splash of color hit Ruby's eye amidst the city's gray. When she turned to look at it, she immediately regretted it.

A giant billboard of Opal Sinclair was currently occupying a rooftop. Wearing a skimpy, tight red dress, Opal looked like she was trying to look ten years younger. Yet any forty-seven year-old woman would have killed for a body like hers. Tall and curvy, with porcelain skin and honey-colored hair. Her face was round as a coin, with big eyes the color of milk chocolate. Her lips looked like they had been puffed up recently, and her eyebrows resembled those of an Egyptian queen's. Beneath her image were the words: _Anyone can be a jewel_.  
"Except for me, apparently." Ruby growled. She hastily wiped her eyes.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. Ruby turned to meet sympathetic eyes the color of ice. Oswald kept rubbing her shoulder, speaking with his stare. Ruby, in turn, attempted to smile. She knitted her fingers through his and squeezed. Her friend gave her one last look of compassion before slipping back into his seat. Strengthened, the young woman drove them to the laboratory without further incident.

Five minutes later saw Edward sitting in a rustic chair while the weird man in the lab coat hooked up a bunch of machines. "We have an audience once again, sir? Madame?" He chuckled as he eyed Edward. "I truly hope he's a superior specimen than the last one. I've never seen a man so big look so scared."

Edward blinked. "I assume you're talking about Butch?"

"I am!" Barker seemed delighted. Turning back to Ruby and Oswald, who were both stretching, he added, "Such interesting company you two keep."

Ruby rolled her eyes.

Oswald nodded. "Yes. Edward is the most brilliant person that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting." Edward smiled at his friend's words. Cracking his knuckles, Oswald straightened. "Now, what shall we be doing today? Beating up another rude thug or...?"

"No, no." Barker grinned. "If we call in too many of those, people might get suspicious." He reached into his pocket and extracted a remote. He pushed the red button. "No, I thought we could stick to good ol' robotics today."

The closet next to the door burst open. Rhythmic clomps echoed from its wooden interior. From the wardrobe emerged a tin version of...

"Basil Karlo?" Edward gasped. Even as he said it, the new criminal could hardly believe it. And yet, here it was. The being was as tall and thin as his acquaintance, with his bald head shining like a new pin. His skin was polished and smooth, almost reflective. Even the Arkham uniform that maintained his modesty were fashioned out of tin. Even from the distance, Edward could see the meticulous attention to detail, from the faint lines in the robot's face to the stripes on its clothes. Its eyes had been fashioned from polished diamonds, cold and hard. Somehow, Barker had managed to give it the same cold, alien gaze that Basil owned.

Ruby turned to Edward suspiciously. "You know him?"

Edward gave her a look. "I spent the better part of a year in Indian Hill. What do you think, genius?"

Ruby's eyelid twitched. She said nothing. Cracked her knuckles. After a moment, she piped up. "I'm kind of his prototype, I guess. I was the second batch that survived being injected with the formula. Hence the name Strange gave me: Clayface Point Two."

"Interesting." Edward spoke sincerely. "So, is Karlo Clayface Point Three, technically? Because he claims that it is simply 'Clayface'."

Ruby shrugged. "I don't think so. I heard Strange reworked the formula before giving it to Karlo. I mean, it was the first time he'd had to give it to a corpse."

Edward nodded. "It makes sense." Turning to Professor Barker, he asked, "So, how does that robot in any way possess his abilities?"

Barker broke into a huge smile. "I was hoping you'd ask." He pushed a green button before bringing the remote close to his lips. "Initiate: metamorphosis."

The Clay-Bot straightened. A square hole appeared in its chest. What appeared to be ribbons of metal spiralled from its dark center, enfolding the face and body. Within seconds, it was formless. A mass of metal. Then, in the time that it took Edward to rub his eyes, it had taken on a new form. Now, standing before him was a metal version of himself.

Edward removed his glasses, polished them with the hem of his shirt, and perched them on his nose once more. Indeed, his defective eyes were not deceiving him. He was truly looking at a man made of steel, tin, and wires, wearing his face. Taller than Karlo, with broader shoulders and slightly larger biceps. Hair of dark steel slicked back from a long face with high cheekbones. Glasses fashioned from sticks of titanium. Behind them, eyes of sardonyx.

Ruby eyed the two before chuckling. "Hey, Doc, is there any way for us to trade?" Oswald slapped her lightly on the arm. Edward gave her a death glare. Oswald, sensing the renewed tension arising between them, quickly changed the subject. "Incredible, Barker! How did you do it?"

"That's for me to know," Barker winked, "and for you to find out."

Edward nodded, still staring at the robot. "Challenge accepted."

Ruby cracked her neck. "Same here." Turning to Oswald, she grinned and held out her hand. "Shall we?"

Oswald smirked. Took her hand. "That is _my_ line." Edward bit his lip, saying nothing.

Barker held up the remote. "Are you ready?"

Edward stared at Barker, then at the robot. "Oswald and her are going to battle that?"

" _'Her'_ has a name!" Ruby barked. Ignoring her completely, he watched Barker nod. "Yet, not in the most conventional of ways." In that moment there came a flash of light. Edward, thinking that a bulb had exploded, spun around to survey the damage. Instead, what he saw scared him to death.

A person stood where two once had. It was taller than Oswald but shorter than Ruby. It had Oswald's pale skin, but carried a hint of Ruby's peach tone. Hunched shoulders and crossed, thin arms reminded Edward of his friend, but the feminine hips and supple thighs could only be Ruby's. It wore Ruby's purple sweatshirt and Oswald's silken trousers. Its fingers were heavy with rings. Familiar, wild curly hair framed a chinless face. But now, gray-blonde-brown had darkened to onyx. A beak-like nose was raised in the air. Laughter that was both masculine and feminine thundered throughout the laboratory.

The figure opened its - their - eyes. Icy-blue. Dark blue.

Edward didn't notice when he toppled backwards. Nor that his jaw was still dropped.

Cobblair cackled some more at his appearance. Cracking their knuckles, they announced, "We almost forgot how awesome it is to be us!" Perhaps it was Edward's imagination, but their voice resembled Ruby's more than her collaborator's.

"That-" Edward's mouth felt like it had been filled with bleach. "What is-they-?"

"My good sir," Barker spoke up behind him, "what you are witnessing is the amalgam of the future mayor and Clayface Point Two." Chuckling, he added, "Honestly, after looking over this information, I've reached the conclusion that their appearance - that is, how balanced and humanoid the final result is - reflects the relationship between its creators." He giggled like a kid in a candy store. "Professor Strange, eat your heart out!"

Cobblair dropped their crossed arms. "You got it, Doc." Their voice deepened as they turned to Edward, "Hey, Ed. Would you like to see something cool before we commence?"

"I-I...of course not!" Edward yelled. He jumped to his feet and brushed himself off.

Cobblair's smile faded. Looking confused, they tilted their head. Ebony hair spilled over one eye. The indigo one. "Why not?"

"Why?!" Edward echoed. "Because...well, do I really need to encourage this shameless display? It's creepy, unnatural, and somewhat disgusting!"

Cobblair's eyes narrowed. An arm shot out as if to punch Edward, but the other quickly grabbed its twin. Stopping it. Breathing heavily, Cobblair closed their eyes. "Calm down." They whispered. "Just calm down. Calm down..." They repeated this mantra a few more times. At last, the tension left their shared body. But when they looked at Edward, it was cold and distant. Glimpsing past him, at the doctor, they growled, "Let's just get this over with."

Barker nodded. Bringing the remote to his lips again, he spoke. "Begin Clay-Bot Combat. Level 3."

The Clay-Bot changed form once again. Now, it assumed the shape of Cobblair themselves. Seeing Edward's frown, Barker nudged him. "It was Oswald's idea. He said that no matter what, _you_ are your own worst enemy." Edward nodded slowly, remembering his time with the kingpin of crime. He recalled how Oswald had mourned his mother, how he had allowed his weakness to nearly kill him. Too bad he was committing the exact same error with this crime against nature.

Cobblair raised their arms. One widened and grew flat as a disc. Edward watched with both disgust and amazement as it transformed into a shield of bone and sinew. The other grew thin and jagged, reabsorbing the fingers and thumb.

In just a few seconds, Cobblair had crafted a sword and shield out of their own flesh. They glared at their robotic clone. "Let this be the perfect battle."

Clay-Bot copied their motions, forming a sword out of each arm. "You'll regret challenging us!"

Cobblair spat. "We'll see."

Swords crossed. Blows were avoided, delivered, and avoided again. Leaps. Dives. The two figures became but blurs constantly entangling before breaking apart again. Edward watched it all, unsure of what to think. He saw this thing as confirmation of what he'd been fearing until now: that ultimately, Ruby had taken his place. Angered, he raised his voice. "Hey!" He would never know what, really, pushed him to distract Cobblair. But he would know the taste of remorse all too well.

Cobblair stopped. Spun around to glare at him. "What the _hell_ do you-?"

 _SPLAT!_

Cobblair's words were cut off with a choke.

Edward gasped. Covered his mouth with his hand.

Barker yelped.

Cobblair panted, either from fear or pain, as they looked down. The bloody tip of Clay-Bot's had sprouted in the middle of their chest. In the center of a rapidly-blooming red flower. Cobblair's eyes filled with tears. Their mouth, with blood.

"Disengage!" Barker yelled in the remote. "DISENGAGE!"

Clay-Bot ripped its sword-arm out of Cobblair's chest. It made the sound of a knife being driven into a melon. A hole the size of a peach pit was left behind. Blood flowed even more quickly, darkening the purple hoodie. Cobblair made a choking sound as their eyes stared down. Seemingly unable to understand what they were seeing.

Their body became enveloped in light. Then, their figure split down the middle like frozen glass. As the light faded, two figures fell in opposite directions. Ruby. Oswald. Curled up in growing puddles of their own blood.

"Oh my God..." Barker ran towards his desk. Bending before it, he extracted a first-aid kit large enough to host a chimp. He ran towards the two, shoving past Edward. Quickly kneeling before one, then the other, he sighed with relief. "Oh, good."

"What?" Edward watched the color drain from both their faces. "What is it?"

"Cobblair was gravely wounded. But these two shared the wound. Thus, it's not fatal." Barker shook his head. "But still, they both seem to have a few shattered ribs. If we're not careful, the lungs may get grazed."

"Oh..." Swallowing hard, Edward bent down next to Ruby. "Let me help."

Ruby swiped her arm at him. Before Edward could register it, he was rolling on his side like a bowling pin. As he lay on the side, he watched Ruby crawl towards Oswald as Barker bent before him. Taking his hand, she whispered in his ear as Oswald winced and cried out.

Edward silently rose. Found refuge in the limousine. When Ruby and Oswald, both drained of color and slower in pace, returned to the car, neither looked him in the eye. Ruby's fury was evident in the way she slammed the door and stuck the keys in their place. Oswald, on the other hand, did not look angry. But very disappointed.


	46. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

The drive home was one of intense rigidity. Ruby's knuckles were white as she drove, her shoulders are curved as Oswald's usually were. She avoided eye contact with Edward at all costs, even when they had to stop at a gas station and he asked if she wanted anything. Playing with her necklace, she'd spat out, "Raisins." When he'd given her a pack of them, she'd swiped it out of his hand without a word of thanks. Oswald was more willing to speak to Edward, yet there was no denying the wedge that had formed between them. Something in the kingpin's tone, his body language, was less close than it had been before.

They were still friends. Edward sensed as much. But his actions had chipped off some of the trust that Oswald had held in him.

If Edward had been alone, he'd have buried his face in his hands. Possibly cried. Try as he might, he could not justify what he had done. He couldn't say that the possibility of Cobblair getting hurt hadn't crossed his mind. By God, they had been swordfighting with a robot! If he hadn't distracted them, Edward didn't doubt that Cobblair would have beheaded it. Instead...

Edward shuddered. Why, really, had he acted that way? Had he really been so jealous of the closeness between Ruby and Oswald that he had sabotaged their training?

Oh, God.

Had he really wanted them both injured, as a sort of perverse punishment for having a friendship that he coveted?

Edward didn't want to face the possibility. But it was right there, beating down on him like the hot sun. The only refuge he found was locking it away in a mental box, knowing he'd have to face it eventually.

But not now, not when the wound was still fresh.

At last, after what felt like a decade, Van Dahl mansion rose from the fog. Up close, Edward saw how truly magnificent it was. Its five storeys were made from dark gray stone, with matching tiles. Much of the eastern wing, where the morning sun shone, was coated in rich green ivy. Its three chimneys jutted against the fat thunderheads. Polished windows stared out at the horizon like doll eyes. The front entrance was crowned with arches, keeping the porch safe from all weather. Below was a neat, healthy row of rose bushes. It was truly a house fit for a king. Not someone with a mere thirty dollars in his pocket.

The limousine came to a smooth halt right in front of the mansion. Ruby killed the engine, pocketed the keys, and climbed out of the car. She opened the door for Oswald, taking his hand to help him walk. She slammed the door in Edward's face as he tried to exit after his friend. Edward sat there, frozen by the hostile gesture, before looking out the window. Ruby held Oswald's hand, while her free arm was wrapped around his waist. While his words were muffled, Oswald's face told Edward that he was insisting that he was fine. Ruby kept shaking her head. When she turned her head to glare at Edward, the man was quick to look away.

At last, when both of them had disappeared behind the stain-glass door, Edward followed suit. When he stepped into the house, he saw the blue, white, and red equivalent of a county fair. Banners and posters with Oswald's face were hanging from every available surface. Dozens of people were discussion that speech or this procedure. Phones were buzzing. The television was on, advertising the incoming election. Ruby's cinnamon rolls, fresh from the oven, sweetened both the air and the mood.

In all of this ruckus, admist such positivity, Edward felt that he could almost forget about what had happened.

Until there came an abrupt jabbing on his shoulder.

Edward turned around to see Ruby standing before him, her arms almost as crossed as her expression. On her side was a dark, sticky stain. Edward bit his lip. Ruby spoke up. "You'd better change in one of the suits Oz bought you. He didn't spend three hundred bucks just for it to sit in the wardrobe, y'know." She was about to turn around when Edward grabbed her arm. "Ruby, wait."

The young woman sighed with exasperation. "What now?"

"I just..." Edward swallowed. "I just, wanted to apologize-"

"What? For _this?_ " Ruby lifted the hem of her sweatshirt. Edward winced. Thick bandages were wrapped around her lower ribcage. Beneath the sticky stain was an even larger one. A dense, red-and-brown blossom was drying on the gauze. Some of the flesh peaking under it was red and probably feverish to the touch. Seeing his expression, Ruby let the fabric conceal the wound once more. "Oh, it's no problem! Oswald and I are going to take six whole weeks to heal, plus regular check-ups to make sure nothing gets infected. But hey! We may not be able to join again for a while, so you can rest easy!" The sarcastic bitterness dripping from her words were almost as hurtful as getting a broken rib himself.

Edward swallowed. "Don't take it out on me."

"No, I _will_ take it out on you." Ruby growled. She folded her arms again. "Do you even realize what you've done? Or is your ego so humongous that it blocks the view? Because of you, Oz and I got wounded. Granted, we both have gotten hurt before, but not while we were Cobblair. When we're like that, we're nigh invincible. We would've been fine if you'd kept your pie-hole shut!"

Edward scoffed, unable to restrain himself. "Yes, I'm sure melding forms in such an unnatural way must be bullet-proof."

Ruby's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "Listen to me very closely." One of her arms turned to rubber. Coiled around Edward so quickly and tightly that he couldn't shrug it off. Their noses were inches apart. "I'll let it slide just this once. But I swear, if you _ever_ endanger us again, I'll take you to a windowless room and show you how someone _unnatural_ lets out their anger." Ruby squeezed his middle so solidly that Edward almost lost consciousness. Instead, she quickly let go and marched back into the kitchen.

Edward stared after her, trying to remember how to breathe, before quickly retreating to his room.

* * *

Ruby scowled and winced as she filled the coffeemaker. Setting it on the stove, she gingerly rubbed her side. Suddenly realizing how hungry she was, Ruby peered into the fridge. Hmm...she was in the mood for something sweet...oh, wait. The only sweet things were the cinammon rolls, which were for the crew, and the pies, which had yet to emerge from the oven. Sighing, Ruby closed the fridge.

"Yo."

Ruby turned to find Butch standing in the doorway, a bun in his beefy hand and crumbs around his mouth. He held it out to her. "You make this?"

Oh, great. Nodding, Ruby turned back to the coffeemaker. Watched the dark liquid rise.

"Well, good job." Butch said. Ruby frowned. Eyeing him suspiciously, she leaned against the counter. "What's with the niceness all of a sudden?"

Butch blinked, then frowned. Swallowed. "Jeez, I just said you make good cinammon buns. Didn't know women can get so huffy about _that_ , too." He turned to leave. Ruby did the same. The sudden movement sent a pot of hot lava splashing across her side. Crying out, Ruby covered her side with her hands. Butch turned back to her. His expression could almost resemble concern. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah." Ruby huffed. "I'm on top of the world! Just ask Nygma." She spat out his name as though it were toxic. Butch whistled lowly. Pocketing the bun, he took a few steps into the kitchen. "Okay. What did that beanpole do?"  
Ruby quirked a brow at him as she rubbed her side.

"I mean, I know he showed up at your training and all." Butch said. "And now you come back hurt? What's that all about?"

"What do you care?" Ruby asked. Seeing Butch's expression, she softened. "Sorry. It's just..." She shrugged. "Not been a good day for me. That time with Barker is supposed to be our time, you know? And Nygma took that away from me, for a while. So." Another shrug. Ruby ran a hand through her curly hair. Butch nodded. After a moment of silence, he spoke. "Um...I, uh..."

Ruby cast a wayward glance at him as she filled the cups.

"What's it like?"

Ruby blinked.

"I mean, what you two do."

Ruby cocked a brow. "Since when are you interested?"

"Eh," Butch shrugged. "Always was, really. Just couldn't find a way to ask. And tryna ask both of you felt kinda...weird. Like I was interruptin' somethin'."

Ruby rolled her eyes. She rang a bell. A maid showed up and bowed upon entry. Ruby bowed in return before handing her the tray now loaded with cups. "Here," she said, "please leave this on the table. This should hold them back until the pies are ready."

"Yes, miss." The maid took the tray and left without another word. Ruby chuckled. 'Miss'. All of the servants called her that now, yet it never ceased to amaze her. She faced Butch once more, still puzzled by his question. "Well..." She crossed her arms. "What do you want to know?"

"For starters, do you, er..." Butch scratched his arm, searching for the right term. "Do you two forget who you used to be?"

Ruby thought about it for a moment. "You forget you were ever alone. When we become Cobblair, it doesn't really feel like we're two people. It's like being a new, single being. And your old names may as well be names for your left eye, and your right." She didn't realize that she was smiling until she noticed her reflection in the window. Blushing, she looked away. Butch nodded slowly, absorbing her words. He said, "Look, ah...sorry, by the way. For everything."

Ruby stared at him. For the first time realizing what an anomaly this was. Not only had they almost never been alone together, Butch had never apologized for...anything, truly. For a second, Ruby wondered if she had actually fainted back at the lab and this was all a dream. But Butch went on, as if speaking quickly would get this over with. "I know Babs put you through a lot, but she's really sorry. She just...wanted more support. She wanted to be taken seriously as a person, not just as the Penguin's lapdog, you know?" Butch explained. "And I went along with it 'cuz, well-"

"Tabitha was going along with it." Ruby interrupted softly.

Bashfully, Butch nodded.

Ruby smiled faintly. "Look, you have nothing to apologize for. It was quite a while ago. I'm over it." She rubbed her arm. "And to be honest, I know what it's like to do stupid things because of someone involved." Her voice grew quiet. Almost inaudible. "To be in love with someone and not knowing how they feel about you."

Butch's eyes widened. So did Ruby's. Blushing even harder, she rushed out of the kitchen. "Well, apology accepted. Bye!" Butch gave a curious wave. Feeling like he had truly spoken to Ruby for the first time. And that, however different they may have been from him, there was someone who understood how he felt.

* * *

Freshly bathed and changed into his new, dark green suit, Edward felt somewhat better than before. Stepping into the crowded saloon, where Ruby's pies, cinammon buns, and coffee helped keep the morale high, he felt almost like a part of the team. Looking around, he tried to decide where to help. That was when he noticed Butch walk out of the kitchen. A few people were waiting for him. There was nothing strange about their exchange. After a few seconds Butch thanked them and patted their arms as they left. Nothing too odd. Yet Edward couldn't help tilting his head in suspicion.

A voice cropped up behind him. "I must say, you are looking quite the dapper fellow."

Edward smiled. Turning around, he saw Oswald smiling at him. He, too, had changed. With his hair combed back like a good little boy's, he hardly resembled the criminal that Edward knew and cherished. He wore a midnight-blue suit, an iris in the breast pocket, and a necklace just barely visible beneath the tie. It was small. Rectangular, with rounded edges. A translucent gem with a brilliant teal color. Edward bit his lip when he realized who Oswald must have received it from. Oswald thankfully didn't notice his faltering smile. There was still a bit of distance between them, but it seemed better than before. In his heart, Edward rejoiced. Oswald eyed Edward's suit nervously. "I had to guess on the jacket size. I hope it fits."

Edward's smile widened. "Perfectly. I cannot thank you enough."

Oswald looked bashful. "It's just a suit."

"No, no." Edward differed. "If it weren't for you, I would still be falling asleep to the screams of the insane."

Oswald sighed. "It becomes almost a white noise after a while, doesn't it?"

"It does." Edward grinned. His grin faded when the weight of his guilt pressed against his jugular. "Look, Oswald...I am very sorry about what happened this morning."

"Ah." Oswald looked away. "Don't...don't worry. It was bound to happen sooner or later. We were getting too confident. Perhaps we needed a small lesson in humility." Wincing slightly, he rested a hand on his side. "Besides, a few fractured ribs will hardly scar."

"Oswald-"

"Stop." Oswald gently interrupted him. Icy-blue eyes met deep brown. "You couldn't have known. So please, stop dwelling on the past." He paused, then leaned forward. His arm snaked past Edward and grabbed a cloth on the table. One that Edward had failed to notice. With a tug, Oswald revealed both of their release certificates. Framed and ready to be hung. Edward gasped as he peered down at them, his heart picking up a beat.

"I hope that this gesture reinforces what I mean when I say that I want us to look beyond past struggles and towards new beginnings." Oswald said solemnly, his eyes on the certificates.

Edward felt the weight lift. Smiling freely for the first time since leaving for Barker's lab, he turned to Oswald. "If I didn't know better, I'd accuse you of being a sentimentalist."

Oswald chuckled. "Guilty." The two shared a laugh.

"You all set, Boss?" Both men spun around to see Butch leaning against the table, both hands - one made of metal, the other flesh - resting on chairs. "Busy day today."

"Who were those people you were speaking with?" Edward quickly asked. Oswald's smile faded.

Butch stared at Edward as though he'd spoken in a foreign tongue. "Don't worry about it." He muttered tersely.

"Now, now, Butch. Be nice." Oswald instructed him. Oblivious to the hostile looks that his two coworkers were sharing. "We're all on the same team here." He grinned. "My team." Chuckling softly, he hobbled away.

"Yeah, sure." Butch muttered without looking away from Edward. "Whatever you say." Leaning forward, he hissed, "You keep your nose out of my business." As he began to move away, Edward replied, "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say." Scowling, Butch marched off. Edward watched him go.

* * *

City Hall was abuzz with activity. Every important member of Gotham, whether they worked in politics or not, had shown up. The twenty-foot walls played host to a poster war between Oswald's and James'. The refreshments table had been replentished thrice to accomodate the large number of people. Banners bearing America's colors decorated the banisters. Cameras went off every few seconds, capturing the historic moment.

Aubrey James bowed in the half-hearted applause. As he climbed down the stage's steps, he gave Oswald the stink-eye. Oswald tensed as he reciprocated the look, tripling the venom. Ruby's hand found his, squeezing hard. Returning the pressure, Oswald felt a fraction better. As the applause died down, Oswald's name was announced over the speakers. Gripping his cane, he turned to Ruby. She had changed in more formal attire: a loose, ankle-length dress the color of fresh olives. Sitting on her collarbone was an emerald the large of a ping-pong ball. Jade earrings adorned her lobes. Grinning sheepishly at him, she adjusted his tie and brushed some dust from his coat. "There," she said, "you look like a million bucks. And trust me, I know what that looks like." She winked at him.

Oswald laughed feebly. Swallowing, he turned back to the stage. "Alright." He said. "I can do this." He tried to sound more convinced than he actually felt.

Ruby's arms coiled around his middle. Hugging him closely. Oswald blushed lightly at the close contact. He reddened further when Ruby's warm breath brushed his ear. "You can. I know you can."

Overcoming his juvenile embarressment, he patted her hands. "Thank you." Ruby nodded in reply as she let go. The moment Oswald limped into the public's sight, he was greeted with warm applause. Waving at them like a king atop a castle, he made his way up the stage. Ruby watched him proudly. When he began to speak, Ruby felt her heart brim with pride. As the speech unwinded, Ruby regularly switched between looking at Oswald and at the public. The sight pleased her. Everyone was captivated by Oswald's words. Hypnotized, almost. No surprise. Oswald spoke of his mother: of growing up with her in humble apartments, seeing the horrors of the city even at a young age, yet bearing through it all thanks to her love. Hell, any Oscar nominee could take a page from his notes.

Seeing Aubrey James practically eject steam from his ears made the moment worth gold.

Something caught her eye then. It was a certain something that she'd hoped to avoid. At least until the end of today.

Edward.

"What's he up to now?" She hissed to herself. Pushing past the tree-like crowd members, she fought her way to the hallway. Where Edward stood before one of the board members. Having taken a familiar envelope from him. Fury bubbled hotly in her gut. She closed the distance between them. "It's all there." Edward, still with his back to her, handed the bag back to the man. Looking unsure, the man quickly pocketed the envelope and hurried away. Edward watched him go with a curious expression. Ruby scoffed. "Breaking a few of Oswald's ribs wasn't enough for you, eh? Now you have to put his career at risk, too?"

Edward froze. Slowly, nervously, he turned to face Ruby. She looked like the wrath of God in a dress. He swallowed, "Um."

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Ruby crossed her arms.

Edward's eyes brightened at the newfound leverage. "What are _you_ doing?"

Ruby's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

Edward gestured towards the direction the man had run off to. "That envelope was filled with precious stones. Topaz. Morganites. Sapphires. And there is only one person under Oswald's influence so involved with stones like that."

"Yeah, me. I put them there." Ruby freely confessed. "So?"

"So," Edward echoed, "does Oswald know about this?"

Ruby cocked a brow. "He's the one who asked me to prepare them. How else can we guarantee to see James lose?"

"So, you think Oswald is incapable of winning without indulging in Man's greed." Edward stated flatly.

Ruby's round, chinless face was the very image of anger. But then, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again she was still furious, but less so. "I do think he can win this on his own." She stated. "But I also know that James is probably cleaning out his bank account for this. If he does end up winning, it'll crush Oswald. I've never seen him this enthusiastic about anything since he murdered Grace." Her indigo eyes flashed. "And I'm not going to let anyone take this away from him."

Edward shook his head. "Considering you've literally shared a body and mind with him, I'd think you'd know he can win on his own."

Ruby looked as though he'd slapped her. Quickly shaking it off, she growled. "Don't talk like you understand what Cobblair is, because you don't. And you never will." With that, she spun around and stomped back into the crowd. But even as she did, she couldn't fight off the doubts now crawling within her brain. Did she really doubt Oswald? Or did she just doubt the common sense of the people listening to him?

Little did they know that Butch Gilzean had witnessed the entire thing.

"Follow him for the rest of the day." He told one of his men. "Don't let him leave your sight."

Ruby wiped her eyes, taking deep breaths, as Oswald finished his speech. Inhaling deeply, she clapped alongside the audience. As Oswald climbed down the stage, she hurried to help him. "That was amazing, Oz!" She wrapped her arms around him. He did the same, burying his nose in her curls. "Thank you." He whispered. "I simply did as you advised and imagined that I was still rehearsing in front of the mirror."

Ruby giggled softly as they pulled away. When Oswald saw her face, his smile faded. "Is something the matter?" His hand rested on her cheek. She shook her head, making Oswald frown. "Oh, come now. Please tell me? I can't enjoy this if you don't."

Touched, Ruby cracked a smile before taking another breath. "I just..." She swallowed. "You know I believe in you, right?"

Oswald stared at her, stunned, before nodding. "Of course."

"And you know we're only bribing these idiots so that there's no chance you'll lose, right?" Ruby asked. "I mean, I-" She sighed, dropping her head. "I just don't want to see you hurt."

Oswald stared at her for a second before placing a finger under Ruby's weak chin. He lifted her face so that their eyes met again. "Ruby, where is this even coming from?" His expression hardened. "Did someone say something? Has something transpired?"

Ruby didn't answer right away. If she told the truth, she knew that Oswald might very well kick Edward out. Or at least warn him. And as much as it pained her to see him so comfortable with Nygma, she knew that she couldn't crush their rekindled friendship before it could blossom. Sighing, she shook her head. "Nah, you know me. I just...get doubtful sometimes."

Oswald gave her a tiny smile. With his free hand he pushed some curls out of her face. "Well, you must never doubt us, alright? We're solid."

Ruby blinked, then smiled. Tears filled her eyes once more. They shared another embrace. Ruby rested her cheek on Oswald's shoulder, breathing in his scent...and noticed Edward approaching. Her good mood souring, she forced a smile on as she pulled away. "Hey, I'm gonna go grab some punch." She jerked her thumb at the refreshment table. "Want anything, Mr. Mayor?"

Chuckling, Oswald answered, "A tuna sandwich. If there are any, please. If not, some cheese cubes would be lovely."

"Gotcha." Ruby pistol-shot him with her fingers before melting into the multitude. Oswald watched her go until Edward's voice called him back to reality. "I assume you know Butch is paying campaign officials?"

Oswald cocked a brow. "You don't approve?" When Edward didn't answer, Oswald chuckled. "My dear Ed, this is Gotham. This is how things are done."

"Yes." Edward nodded. "And in theory, I support that. But, Oswald," he gestured to the room, "don't you see how these people are cheering for you?" Oswald stared at him before peering out at the throngs. "Yes, they...do seem very excited."

"You can win this on your own." Edward stated.

Oswald gave him a look. "Why risk it? There is no up-side." Edward rolled his eyes as his friend continued, "I want this, Ed. I want this like I've never wanted anything."

"I know." Edward replied calmly. "Which is why you need to call off Butch."

Oswald stood there, fidgeting and quiet. A soft, little hand rested on his sleeve. Curious Oswald turned to see a small girl, perhaps no older than nine or ten, in a white outfit and pigtails. "Mr. Penguin?" She asked sweetly.

"Hello there." Oswald greeted with a mixture of surprise and pleasure.

"I wanted to thank you for getting rid of all the monsters." The little girl said. Oswald stared at the child as a tiny, white bloom was born in his chest. He turned to face Edward again, "Do you see? People see me differently now. For the first time in my life, I feel wanted." He did not mention that the first time he had truly felt wanted had been with Ruby. The two had hardly gotten off to the best start. He also did not want to weaken his argument. Yet he could not understand why Edward was smirking like that. Had he said something funny?

The little girl faced Edward as well. She held her hand out. "Nice doing business with you." Oswald hoped he'd heard incorrectly. He twisted back in time to see Edward give the girl a ten dollar bill. She walked away with a satisfied smile on her face.

The white bloom crumbled into dust.

Edward waited a few beats before asking, "And how do you feel now?"

Oswald's pain heated into anger. He glared up at him. "I feel like I've misjudged someone who's supposed to be my friend."

"I _am_ your friend." Edward replied. "I can't be bought, but I can be stolen with a glance. I'm worthless to one, but priceless to two. What am I?"

"I don't care!" Oswald snapped. "I do not need a stupid riddle right now." He stepped closer to Edward. People seemed to be doing that a lot today. Oswald's voice dropped to a low, deadly hiss. "I know what I want. I want to be mayor. Stay out of it, Ed. I'm warning you."


	47. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

It was finally here.

After the countless sacrifices, innumeral number of gemstones, and pulled strings, the night of elections arrived.

Tonight, they would see if all of this effort had been worth it. They would see if Oswald would indeed take the next step up...or be forced to kill Aubrey for stealing what was rightfully his.

Ruby hoped for the former, and not only because such an action would have the police all over them like flies on honey. In truth, she just wanted to see Oswald happy. And if it turned out that her gemstones and his money hadn't been enough...well, all the murders in the world couldn't lift his mood.

Cautiously, nervously, she prepared the party. After meticulously leafing through the Yellow Pages, she invited every Gotham citizen that was worth invited, but she avoided the upper crusts. If Oswald lost, then the cream of Gotham would never let him forget it. And if one of them got too annoying, no amount of hush money would keep the police from announcing Oswald's latest homicide.

Once the thirty people had been invited, Ruby breathed on the servants' neck until everything was ready: the house cleaned, the decorations up, the food prepared. She of course contributed to each of these chores. Being able to stretch her limbs, or add more, helped speed things along. Only after the mansion was spotless, each floorboard glimmering, that she helped put the posters up. Then came Ruby's favorite part: the food. As the sky changed from burnt orange to blood-red to royal purple, she oversaw the others' cooking as much as she did her own. By the time the first couple of stars had emerged, a full banquet had been prepared.

Ruby skimmed through the list, checking off each dish as she saw it served, potted and lidded to be kept warm or cold until guests arrived. Finally, after three and a half hours, the banquet consisted of the following:

Pigeon pie. Trout baked in clay. Ham studded with cloves. Skewered tenderloin with bacon and sage. Salad of greens with peas and onions. Stewed plums. Seaweed bread and butter. Mongolian milk tea. Teff porridge. Sweetcorn fritters. Poached pears. Tyoshi honeyfingers. Onion and cheese pie. Lemon cakes.

Wiping her brow, Ruby placed her list in the hands of the closest servant. "Looking great. Don't forget to serve the champagne when Mr. Cobblepot is announced the winner. Until then, make sure that refreshments remain filled at all times."

The servant bowed slightly. "Yes, miss."

A forbidden thrill raced through her bones. Trying to hide her pleasure, she bowed in return. "Thanks." Glimpsing at the grandfather clock at the end of the hall, she turned back to the servant. "Remember: the party officially starts at seven thirty on the dot. Open the doors a moment before then, and make sure someone's there to collect the guests' hats and coats." Excused by the servant's second bow, Ruby transformed into particles no larger than dust. Racing through the air like birds, they made their way to Ruby's bathroom. Reforming in a few seconds, Ruby stretched and cracked her knuckles.

Half an hour later, after copious amounts of cinammon-scented soap and enough perfume to knock out an elephant, Ruby stood over the dress. The one that she had bought years ago, but had only worn once.

Ruby looked away, but the remembrance rammed into her anyway. She remembered seven years ago, when Opal Sinclair had intended to host a photo shoot in a nearby wood. Using her month's pay, Ruby had bought the best dress she could find and worn a necklace of black diamonds. The Master's mother had no longer wanted them, and had given them to Ruby as a gift. She had planned everything perfectly, making sure that Opal would be there.

Ruby had shown up. Slipping past the security guards and the snobby photographers, she had walked up to the mother who had never given her a hug. A kiss on the forehead. Any real acknowledgement. With the hope that, maybe, this time would be different.

Instead, Opal had started screaming the moment she saw her. Pointing and shrieking, 'Devil' and 'monster' while everyone turned to watch. Ruby had been so stunned, then so ashamed and hurt, that she'd turned heel and fled. Crying as she did so. Knowing that, for the first time, her mother had told her exactly what she thought of her.

Nothing can possibly hurt more than knowing that your own mother sees you as a monster best forgotten.

But...no. Tonight was to be one of celebration, not of sad recollection. Oswald had worked so hard to make it this far. Ruby would not ruin this for him. She wouldn't let _anyone_ ruin it.

Taking a deep breath, she slipped it on. It was a long-sleeved gown of black silk, with blue and white stars and comet trails sewn into the design. The gown reached just below the knee. It was loose enough to be modest. Yet tight enough to reveal the humble contours of her average form. Beneath, she put on dark purple stockings. Before getting to the jewelry, Ruby looked in the mirror and smiled. The dress was just as beautiful as she remembered. It looked like she had cut out a piece of the cosmos and woven it into cloth.

Tucking some hair behind her ears, Ruby examined her jewelry box. Holding one piece for inspection, followed by another. She went over chemical and physical facts, color, texture, and significance.

Flourite. Most colorful mineral in the world. During the eighteenth century, it was grounded into powder and mixed with water in order to treat kidney disease. Thought to have a calming effect on the body.

Rutile. The zodiacal sign for Leo and Taurus. Red, and mostly comprised of titanium dioxide. Said to aid the fighting of phobias and the process of forgiveness.

But...no...none felt right. Until her eyes trailed on the rhodonite necklace. It was a simple silver chain holding a stone the size and shape of an egg. It was a black, smooth stone with cloudy pink blotches.

Ruby grinned. Rhodonite. The name stemmed from the Greek word 'Rhodos', which meant 'rose-colored'. Usually found in Russia, Australia, and Sweden. It was believed to express confidence and lovingness. Exactly what she wanted to express tonight.

Collecting the necklace, she slipped it over her head. The cold, smooth stone rested just below her collarbone.

Okay. Ready. No use stalling.

Feeling butterflies swimming in her belly, Ruby brushed herself off. Took a deep, cleansing breath before dissolving into dust once more.

* * *

Oswald stood rigidly admist the guests, trying in vain to drown his nervousness in a glass of wine. He sought distraction by prattling with the guests, but their simple-minded conversations soon bored him and made him covet a stronger beverage. No matter how he tried to avoid it, he kept glancing at the television screen. Why did he feel so nervous? With his money and Ruby's polished amethysts, they should have had the board members in the bag. Victory was inevitable. So why?

He searched for Butch, to no avail. Took a swing of his drink and grimaced.

Soft laughter brushed against his dark blue suit like a springtime breeze. "Keep drinking like that and you won't be able to hear the good news." Chuckling, he turned to meet the friendly, comely face of Ruby. Yet her attire made the words shrivel up and die on his tongue. She looked...nice. Very nice. It took another sip to get over it. He smiled and cheered to her. "Wise words. I fear, though, that they fall upon deaf ears." Ruby gave him a playfully disapproving look. Without a word, she took the glass from him and downed it in one gulp. She shuddered, momentarily turned green in the face, and set the glass down on the table.

Oswald cocked a brow at her. "I never did ask for the reason behind your anti-alcohol diet."

Ruby gave him another look. "Hm. Let me see. Fermented grape juice or super-strong stuff that kills my liver. Gee, what's not to like?"

Oswald chuckled. "Pardon me, Mother Teresa. I did not realize your reasons were so just."

Ruby lightly punched his arm. "Nah. Mostly, I just hate the taste." Now fully recovered from the exposure to wine, she folded her arms. "What about you? Why do you love red wine so much?"

Oswald blinked, then sniggered. But Ruby caught the hint of sorrow behind the mirth. "My...mother. She allowed me a glass during each celebration since the age of thirteen. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, and so on." His icy-blue eyes adopted a glaze of distance, like those of a doll's. His tone dropped. Became meek and almost childlike. "I suppose...it's a way of remembering her."

Ruby stared at him for a moment, regret flowing through her. Wishing, just this once, to be able to rewind time for just a minute. That way, she could have avoided darkening Oswald's thoughts. He of all people didn't need that tonight.

Without hestitating she trapped him in a hug. Oswald quickly responded. They breathed in each other's scents. Felt the other's solidity. Reminding themselves that their friend was here. Ready to anchor them back to reality when the past attempted to pull them away.

At last, they slowly pulled away. Oswald stared at Ruby with gratitude in his eyes. Ruby smiled gently in response, squeezing his shoulders. "It's okay to miss the people you've lost, Oz. Never forget it." Reaching up, she brushed a stray hair out of his eyes. "You know, they say a person dies twice."

Oswald arched a brow.

"Once is when their consciousness ceases, and their body fades." Ruby explained. Hesitating, she added, "And...the second time is the last time their name is spoken." She tried to smile in spite of the tears rising in her eyes. "So, from what I'm seeing...Gertrude Kapelput will never die twice."

Oswald's eyes welled up. But he, too, smiled. His hand covered hers. "The same goes for my father, Ruby."

Ruby swallowed.

Oswald brushed a tear away from the corner of her eye. "Come, now. Let us honor both their memories by living in the present. Preparing for my victory." His words were comforting and gentle, but firm enough for Ruby to see the truth. She nodded vigorously. "Well, start by trying the Tyoshi honeyfingers. I had to use my favorite pot of wildflower honey to make those."

Laughing, Oswald looped an arm around her waist and let her guide him to the banquet table. His cane clacked against the tiles, confident and proud.

Ten minutes later, when their stomachs were filled and their spirits rejuvinated, the two examined the television. In a few minutes, they would announce the winner. The new mayor. Neither of them pretended that this wasn't a big deal.

It was only from the corner of her eye that Ruby noticed Edward. Dressed in a fine dark suit, he looked like a GQ model who'd stolen his secretary's glasses. Her stomach tightened at the sight of him. But she knew that hiding his presence from Oswald would have been both dishonest and pointless. That was why, with a strained heart, she nudged Oswald. When those unbearably bright eyes landed on hers, she jerked her weak chin in Edward's direction. "Well, look who decided to show up."

Oswald sighed. "Please try to get along?" He took her hand. "For me?" Looked at her with huge, imploring eyes.

It was Ruby's turn to sigh. "I can't say no to that face."

Squeezing her hand, Oswald whispered, "Thank you. I shall return in a moment." Ruby felt his warm, soft hand leave hers. Hugged herself.

Oswald limped towards Edward with a grin. "Hello! Is everything alright?"

Edward nodded. "Of course. Why?"

"Well, you were gone for the majority of the party."

"Ah," Edward waved off his friend's concern as one would with a fly. "Just some business to take of. So," he fixed his grin on Oswald, "are you ready?"

"Absolutely." Oswald beamed. "This is it. The moment I've been waiting for."

Edward's smile widened. "Indeed."

Ruby bit her lip. Rubbed her arm. Gathering what little tolerance she had, she began to step forward. The sound of a door slamming stopped her dead in her tracks.

"YOU!" A distant roar had all heads turning. A furious Butch emerged from the shadows, his pudgy face red with anger. He charged straight towards the duo. "You! You ruined everything!" His meaty fist closed around Edward's tie, slamming him against the wall. Gasps echoed within the room. People backed away from the violent spectacle.

"Butch!" Oswald yelled. "Release him this instant! What is going on?"

"Oh, I'll tell you what's goin' on: he has cost you the election!" Butch growled, his watery-blue eyes focused on Edward. "He went to every district official and took the money back! Said you wanted to run a clean election!"

Ruby covered her mouth with her hand.

"Oh, by the way," Butch reached into his pocket and extracted a plastic bag filled with amethysts. He handed them to a stunned Ruby. "I think these belong to you, Curly. I found 'em in this guy's dresser." With a soft gasp she hugged the gems close. Oswald stared at the glassy, grape-colored stones before slowly turning to Edward. His mouth was agape, his eyes wide. "Tell me this is not true." His was not an order, but a plea.

"I'm afraid Butch is right," Edward replied, "for once."

A snarling Butch tightened his hold on Edward's tie, his fingernails scratching the skin beneath.

"Why?" Oswald asked in a more heated tone. "After everything I've done for you, everything we could've done together...you betrayed me!" He sounded as if he were still digesting the fact. His mannerisms reminded Ruby a little too much of the night Cobblair was born. The way he'd looked at her afterwards. It was as though he'd erased everything positive that he may have seen before, and replaced it with betrayal and dishonesty. Ruby turned away, trying to avoid seeing that dark time.

Edward breathed heavily.

Oswald sniffed. "Butch!"

Recognizing the cue, Butch summoned his gun and held it an inch from Edward's speckled face. Dozens of guests gasped and cried out in alarm. Several of them fought for the exit. Ruby clenched her jaw, waiting for what was coming.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't let Butch kill you where you stand!" Oswald dared him.

Edward glanced about. "Well, there are about thirty witnesses-"

"I DON'T CARE!" Oswald yelled. Ruby jumped at the harshness delivered from such a typically gentle voice. Butch just stood there, looking like he couldn't wait to pull the damn trigger. Ruby found herself edging closer to the scene. Her hand found Oswald's. Stilling it. Oswald turned viciously towards her, but stilled when she saw her face. Ruby hoped to transfer her thoughts in her gaze, enabling her friend to understand. He had wanted this friendship so much. Was such an action, however severe it may have seemed at first, really worth throwing his wish in the trash?

Oswald opened his mouth, then closed it. Up close, Ruby could see that his eyes were damp with unshed tears. "Oz-"

Noises rose from the television, cutting her off. Edward, noticing them, smiled. He nodded. "And there's that."

Ruby and Oswald turned their heads at the same time just as the recorded cheering began. The reporter was grinning as she spoke, "In what can only be viewed as a seismic shift, even by Gotham's standards, former underworld kingpin Oswald Cobblepot has won the mayor's office by a landslide." The woman vanished even as her voice carried on. In her place were images of thrown confetti and a familiar poster, combined with clapping people and the headline, _COBBLEPOT WINS!_

Half-hearted cheers began to rise within the crowd, only to be quickly shushed by Oswald. Without letting go of Ruby's hand, he limped towards the television. His mouth was open, trying in vain to form words. His eyes, now like drops of crystal dew, widened with marvel. "I still won." He choked. Breathing shakily, he turned to Ruby. "I still won." He repeated, still sounding incredulous. Ruby, trying to get over her own shock, did her best to smile. Oswald mimicked her expression before reverting his gaze to Edward. "They really want me as mayor."

"Yes." The man confirmed. He sounded strangely calm, considering Butch was still aiming a gun at his head.

Oswald hobbled back towards his friend. "I can't be bought, but I can be stolen with a glance." He did not stop walking until they were just a few inches apart. "I'm worthless to one, but priceless to two." Edward made a heart shape with his fingers, staring down at the shorter man.

Oswald cracked a smile. "Love."

Ruby's breath caught in her throat.

As if just know realizing that the gun was still aiming, Oswald tore it out of Butch's paw. Edward sighed with relief. Ruby stared at the scene, trying to understand it. Oswald turned back to the television. The people were literally cheering his name. Oswald let out a breath that was either a happy sigh or laughter. A shaky smile appeared on his face, even if for a second. He looked at Edward. "They love me."

Edward nodded, looking sage. "If you would have bought the election, then you would have never known. And know you do."

Oswald made a bittersweet noise.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Edward smiled widely. Ruby hugged herself as she watched them, suddenly feeling cold. Butch just rolled his eyes, unable to believe his ears. Oswald stared at the taller man with timid inquisition. "How did you know I would win?"

Edward stepped closer. His gaze was firm, but gentle. "I believe in you, Oswald," he said softly, "even when you don't believe in yourself."

Oswald stared at Edward like he had never stared at anyone, with a smile on his lips and tears in his eyes. For a timeless moment he remained like that, enraptured by the rush of alien, wonderful feelings. Then, he turned to Butch with a rigid frown. "You. You never believed I could win this election on my own." Edward smirked at Butch from over Oswald's shoulder. Oblivious Oswald continued, "I think, maybe, you're not cut out for this after all."

Ruby blinked in surprise.

"What?!" Butch yelled. "You gotta be kidding me! This guy-"

"Don't worry," Oswald snapped, "I still need someone to crack skulls."

Ruby looked at Butch's expression. She had seen him walk through the door with bruises, black eyes, and gunshot wounds bleeding stains into the carpets. But this was the first time that she truly felt sorry for him.

Oswald, completely ignorant (or uncaring) of whatever damage he may have caused, turned back to Edward. His expression was as gleeful as a schoolboy's. "Come, Ed. We have plans to make." He looked out in the crowd. "Ruby?"

"Coming." Ruby brought herself to his side. Feeling negative about it for the first time. It did not help that Edward walked right past Butch, like the latter did not even exist. And that smile...Ruby felt herself shudder at the sight of it. What she saw was not a smile of moved friendship, but one of calucated success. It was the smile a chess champion wears when he delivers the fatal checkmate.

The trio began to walk towards the center of the room, where Oswald had planned to make a speech upon winning.

Ruby felt herself take Oswald's hand. Leaning towards his ear, she whispered, "I never doubted you could do it. Jewels or no jewels."

Oswald smiled and leaned his head against hers. "I know, dear. But now, you may keep the amethysts and fashion from them a necklace befitting a queen."

"Yeah." But even as she said this, Ruby turned back to look over her shoulder. Butch was glaring holes into Edward's back.

Somewhere in Ruby's mind, or perhaps her heart, thunder rumbled.


	48. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Oswald looked at ease. This was good. The people had to see him as strong and capable, especially in the beginning. In order to build a sturdy house, after all, one had to put good bricks at the bottom before moving up.

Her hands cupping her elbows, Ruby watched him stand in front of the microphone. Cameras flashed. People murmured, mostly with admiration. Good. The little near-homicide incident had been brushed aside. Well, it was to be expected. Humans were always ready to erase negativity in favor of positivity.

Straight as a broomstick, Oswald spoke clearly and firmly. His was the confidence of a king. "It is with a humble heart that I accept the trust placed in me by this great city to become your mayor." His icy-blue eyes scanned the crowd, focusing on each face individually. "The people have spoken, and I have heard their call!" The assembly cheered enthusiastically.

Ruby blew a kiss at him, hopefully unseen.

Oswald, strengthened by the concourse's zeal, spoke up. "And as my first act as mayor, I would like to introduce you to my first deputy mayor and chief of staff," He turned to two faces and thrust his arm out, "Miss Ruby Sinclair and Mr. Edward Nygma!"

Ruby froze as applause erupted around her. She stood there for a long moment, barely breathing as shock seized her brain. Seeing her friend's smile, but unable to return it. Surprise had turned her to stone.

A large, beefy hand gave her a gentle push. Butch's voice tickled her ear. "Go on, Curly. You're up."

Ruby turned to the one-handed thug, who offered her an akward half-smile. Swallowing nervously, she nodded and shyly forced her feet to move. As she neared the spotlight, Oswald offered her his hand. She grasped it like a drowning man seizing a plank. Her skin was still covered in goose-bumps. As more cameras flashed, Oswald brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles. A loud, 'Ooooooh' rebounded through the throng. It took all of Ruby's willpower to avoid (literally) melting on the spot. Forcing a close-lipped smile at the crowd, she whispered, "What are you doing?"

"The best course of action that I can imagine." He whispered back. "I can think of no one more worthy for this position."

Ruby blushed all the way to the roots of her hair.

Edward approached them, looking as stunned and happy as Ruby felt. Oswald clapped a hand on the taller man's shoulder. Then, taking both their wrists, he raised them victoriously towards the clique. The loudest roll of applause filled the room like wine in a chalice.

Butch watched it all from the back. For the young woman, who was so clearly in love with Penguin it was kind of sad, he felt something akin to warmth. She deserved this, at least, after everything he'd put her through.

But Nygma? Butch wanted nothing more than to wipe the floor with that smarmy face of his.

He would do exactly that.

* * *

The next several days were nothing short of chaotic.

Every moment was spent pleasing the citizens of Gotham and making the most of his victory.

One example was participating in something akin to a parade. Countless celebrating folk went out to shake hands and take pictures of the new mayor. Confetti rained on them like rainbow hail. Ruby and Edward sat in the back of a cadillac, with Oswald sandwiched between them. Edward did not wear his glasses. He whispered in Oswald's ear. The new mayor nodded in understanding. Ruby performed a few clay-based tricks for the entertainment of the crowd, such as turning her hands into fleshy origami.

Butch followed the car, looking at it with envy.

Another stop was the local soup kitchen. Edward and Butch stood aside, with the former adjusting Oswald's chef hat. Oswald served soup and bread to the homeless, even taking photos with a lucky few. Ruby brought them the leftovers from the banquet, with a few hidden gems baked in the crusts.

Yet another event was the auguration of a new school bus. Oswald, with a huge pair of scissors, cut the ribbon tied across the door. The crowd roared their approval. He then quickly called on Edward to pose for the photo with him. Ruby was next. She stood as proud as she could, waving at the cameras. At the corner of her mind, she wondered if all of this publicity would reach the ears and eyes of her parents. And if they would care.

At some point, when Oswald was not in earshot, a reporter tapped on Ruby's shoulder. Winking mischieviously, she asked her if she and Oswald were married.

Ruby felt like the cement has disintegrated beneath her feet. "Wh-what?" She licked her suddenly dry lips.

"Well," the reporter said, "you're the only woman in his entourage. And we've heard that you two have been shacking up for a year and a half now. It would only be the decent thing to do."

Ruby's eye twitched. "'Shacking up'?" She took a step closer to the reporter. The woman instinctively took a step back. Trying her best to control her temper, Ruby held up her right hand. "Am I wearing a wedding ring?"

The reporter blinked. Swallowed. Shook her head. "N-no, you're not." Indeed, Ruby was wearing a blue diamond, a zircon, and a jade ring. Each stone was no larger than a wild strawberry.

"That's right. Because we are not married, nor are we promised to be married." Ruby dropped her hand. "And I would advise you to watch your language when referring to the mayor and the deputy mayor."

The reporter left out this conversation in the newspaper.

* * *

Silence dominated the chamber facing the garden. It was not made of tension or fear, but of something much deeper: sorrow. Oswald, in a black suit and wine-colored tie, stood before a statue. Recently built, with specific instructions from Oswald, a statue of his mother had been erected. Perched on a small altar, she overlooked the luxurious room. She had been crafted not as she had been later in life, with the weight of over fifty years dragging her down, but as she had been in youth. A lovely, friendly woman in a modest dress and fair hair collected in a bun.

Oswald swallowed hard. The hand closed tightly around his cane, burning his palm. He wondered if this was how Ruby felt each time she visited his father's grave. He himself almost never did because the reminder was too painful.

The new mayor swallowed. "There's something I've been wanting to ask you." His eyes brimmed. "Am I a good boy? Have I made you proud?"

The statue stood benignly still, smiling and calm, unable to reply. Oswald's heart stung. His mother never would have stayed quiet. She had always gushed about how happy he made her. She'd clapped her hands at every accomplishment, no matter how small, and had showered him with love from the moment she'd held him in her arms.

Not for the first time, Oswald wondered if his mother had seen his father in him. If only a little.

And what their lives may have been like had Father defied his parents as he'd intended, married his pregnant companion and assisted to Oswald's birth. His childhood. His life.

Oswald cleared his throat. Dabbed at the corner of his eyes.

A soft, deep voice pierced the quietude. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Oh, Ed." Oswald quickly dabbed his eyes again. Swallowed hard as his new chief of staff approached him. Icy-blue eyes never left the statue. "You never met my mother." He gave a melancholic smile. "Wasn't she beautiful?"

Edward stared at the statue for about two seconds before giving a reserved smile. "A fine figure of a woman." He moved closer so that he was standing beside Oswald. The mayor kept his eyes on the statue, trying to keep them as dry as possible. "She was my whole world." He said softly. "The only one that was always there for me." Swallowing hard, he tried to rein his emotions in. But they were like wet bars of soap, constantly slipping out of his hands.

Edward pondered over his friend's words before speaking. "Well, I believe the answer is 'yes'."

Oswald turned to him.

Edward stared at him meaningfully. "She _would_ be proud."

Oswald gave a tiny smile. "Do you really think so?"

Edward grinned. "Oswald, look at everything you've achieved." Oswald wiped his cheek as his friend continued. "The people love you. Gangs fear you. And tomorrow night, the crème of Gotham will be gathering to celebrate...you." Edward shrugged happily as Oswald gave another shy smile. "What more could someone ask for?"

Oswald thought about it for a long moment. The answer came to him like a thrown rock in the gut. Swallowing, he stepped in front of the statue. Looking into the stony likeness of such kind eyes, ones always lit up when he entered the room. "Someone to share it with." He replied solemnly. Edward watched him through half-closed eyes. Oswald kissed his fingers, then rested them on the cold stone lips. Breathing shakily.

* * *

Okay. She could do it. She would do it. Today, she would ask him.

Admittedly, Ruby had been reciting the same mantra to herself ever since the party had been organized. Day after day, she'd intended to ask Oswald. Yet each day she'd held her tongue. Once, it had been because a long day had seen Oswald going to bed, fully clothed, at seven p.m. Another time had been due to his spending the entire day with Edward and her wanting to avoid the bastard at all costs. There was always a reason.

Especially buried beneath six feet of excuses. The truth was, Ruby could have asked Oswald a dozen times over by now. But the truth was, the idea of asking her made her knees turn to butter. What if he said no? Would that cause a rift in their friendship? Would he suspect that she had feelings for him? And what if he said yes? Oh, God. Anything could happen. Things could truly get weird between them. What if...

Ruby groaned. Covered her face with her first pair of hairs. The other two pairs set down the gems that she had been polishing and filing. She would have been content with staying like that all bloody day.

Until there came a deep-throated groan. "Oh, yuck."

Ruby dropped her hands and turned around. Standing at the entrance of the saloon was Butch Gilzean, an expression of disgust printed on his face. His watery-blue eyes stared at her extra limbs as if fearing they'd attack him. "What the hell are you doing?"

The deputy mayor sighed. "Taking a break." She admitted.

"By playing with rocks?"

Ruby rolled her eyes. "They're semiprecious gemstones." Seeing Butch avoid eye contact, she repeated the action. Then, the four additional arms shriveled, sinking back into her waist and ribcage. Rubbing the spots slightly, she winced. "Can't believe some busted ribs are bothering me so much."

"Oh, I know all about 'bother', Curly." Butch muttered as he finally looked at Ruby. "I haven't been this busy since I first started workin' for Fish."

Ruby cocked a brow. Leaning back in the armchair, she asked, "Why? Did you have to do some rite of passage or something?"

Butch looked surprised. "As a matter of fact, yeah." His eyes flitted from her to the armchair across from her. Uncertainty hovered in his gaze like a stormcloud. Ruby drummed her fingers against the armrests before smirking. "Come on, park it. You afford a break, just like I do."

The guard blinked, then nodded. "Thanks." He all but crashed in the chair. Looked around in an attempt to ignore how awkaward he felt. The chamber, like every other room in the house aside from the broom closet, was finely furnished and saturated in elegance. This room was mainly grayish-green, with faint traces of fuschia. The walls were painted that particular shade of green, while the fuschia manifested itself in the curtains and carpets. The furniture found a middle ground, residing in shades of white and gray. Even though the only pieces of furniture were the two armchairs, a coffee table between them, and a few cabinets filled with china cups, the entire place still radiated weath.

Butch eyed the coffee table. It was littered with shining stones of various colors, what appeared to be eyeglasses with several magnifying lenses, and tools that Butch did not recognize.

He gestured to them with his metal hand. "What's all this?"

Ruby blinked, then gave the shadow of a smile. "They're grinding stones, rubber hand backers, and sandpaper, which are used to help refine and polish gems. As for the gems themselves, heh..." She smirked. "Interested in a crash course?"

Butch thought about it for a second. His secret thoughts churned in his mind. Travelling to that dark place that no one could know about it. The guys were all set, right? They were meant to act this afternoon, right? So he had some time to kill. And spending it with the clay mutant had to be better than risk running into Nygma.

Sighing, he nodded.

Ruby brightened. "Great!"

For the next twenty minutes, she held up each stone on the table and spoke of their name, use, and symbolism. Butch wasn't sure how much he heard or understood, but it was kind of nice to see each unique gem and hear the facts surrounding them. He found himself liking the brightness of the topaz, the fractured surface of the diamond, and the tiger-like patterns of the malachite.

At last, the grandfather clock gave a gentle chiming. Bringing them back to reality and all the hardships within it.

Ruby leaned back with a sigh. Grinning at Butch. "Not bad. You're actually pretty attentive...for a thug."

Butch nodded. "Thanks. And you're pretty cool...for a mutant."

Ruby stuck her tongue out at him as they both stood. "I've got to be better company that Edward."

"Oh, God, don't tell me." Butch groaned. "He's such a...a..." He halted, unable to find the words.

Ruby certainly did. "...An under-muscled, self-indulgent, egotistic, stingy, prissy, narcissistic jackass!" She and Butch both barked with laughter. Butch slapped her back, nearly knocking her over. They probably would have laughed until dusk had a knock on the door. They both turned to see Edward and Oswald standing there. While Edward's expression was neutral, Oswald was smiling with fondness. "I'm so pleased you two are getting along!"

Ruby chuckled. Ran a hand through her hair. "Guess so." She cocked her head at her friend, ignoring Edward completely. "Wow. Is it time for the speech already?"

Oswald spread his hands out. "I'm afraid so."

"Awww," Ruby was at his side in an instant, "don't worry. They'll be eating from the palm of your hand...again." She looped an arm around his hunched shoulders. Oswald's arm snaked around her waist. The two disappeared down the corridor, with Edward in close pursuit.

Butch rubbed the back of his neck, feeling uncertain for the first time in a while.

He could only hope that, when his men entered the field, the curly-haired mutant would not get hurt.


	49. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

For once, Gotham was gifted with pleasant weather. A thin veil of mist passed before the sun, giving it the appearance of a polished gold coin. Above the delapidated buildings, the heavens shifted between azure and pearly gray. Soft breezes rustled the park's trees, reminding all that spring would be here before long. The temperature was perfect: cool enough to avoid sweating, yet warm enough to justify a milkshake.

Which was exactly what Ruby Sinclair had opted for.

Edward rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time as a loud slurping scratched his ears. As Oswald shook a few hands and answered questions, Edward glimpsed to his left. Ruby was standing about half a foot away. Dressed in a black, knee-length gown spotted with mint-green, apple-red, and ocean-blue, she looked like a human version of a Jackson Pollock painting. Around her neck and wrists were opals, bound together in thin silk chains. On her ears, jade shards. All of that would have been acceptable had it not been for the medium-sized milkshake in her hands. The source of the unending slurping.

Ruby's indigo eyes caught his. She smirked as the straw left her lips. "What?"

"Do you have to be so loud?" Edward whispered furiously.

Ruby scoffed. "Come on. I'll finish it before the discussion." She cocked a brow. "Or is King Edward against chocolate milkshakes?" When the only answer she got was a glare, she shrugged and gave another loud slurp. Eyeing him throughout it all.

Edward shook his head. "Such a mystery."

Ruby cocked a brow.

"How can someone as exceptional as Oswald want to befriend someone like you?" Edward asked, sounding genuinely inquistive. Ruby's blood began to boil. Now, she was especially glad of the 'additive' that she had put in Edward's afternoon coffee. "Maybe, if his only friend hadn't abandoned him, then he wouldn't have _needed_ to befriend someone else." She growled back.

Edward smiled crudely at her. "Ah, I see. Lacking alternatives, Oswald simply made due with his father's leftovers. Perfectly understandable, then."

Ruby's hair began to move even though there was no wind. Her teeth clenched tightly, burning in their gums. Her very skin began to slide in patches across her bones like peeling tree bark. If it hadn't been for the sudden applause, then she might have considered strangling the man.

Turning away from Edward, she sipped at her milkshake. Yet now, it only taste like cold sludge. Wiping her eyes, she turned her attention to Oswald. He was standing on the top steps of Congress, in a fine black suit complete with a swirl-design tie. Ruby was flattered to see a white rose in his jacket's breast pocket. It matched his white spats perfectly. He wore black leather gloves on his long-fingered hands. Each dark spike on his head gleamed under the pallid sunlight like hardened oil. His eyes were shining with a hope and joy that Ruby had only ever seen once: when he had been with his father. The statue of his mother stood beside him. The sight touched Ruby's heart. It was like Mrs. Kapelput was there with her son for the last time. Witnessing his greatest triumph.

"My mother was the daughter of immigrants. A humble cook." Oswald spoke calmly and casually to the crowd, yet carried a natural elegance that made ignoring him impossible. "We did not have much, but when she was by my side, I felt loved. Protected." Cameras flashed. Journalists took notes. "As promised, I have rid Gotham of its villanous...monsters." His voice faltered for just a second when he said that last word. Ruby looked away. Feeling like a pin had gotten stuck in her chest.

A microphone suddenly rose among the others. "Wait, Mayor Cobblepot?"

Oswald looked surprised. But a lover of attention at heart, he could not ignore the curious soul. "Yes?"

"If you don't mind my asking," The journalist said, "don't you currently have one of those 'monsters' living under your roof right now?" Nervous murmurs arose within the crowd. Ruby's breath froze in her throat. Oswald stiffened. He glanced at his friend, who suddenly looked ready to bolt. Quickly, he cleared his throat. "No. Ruby Sinclair is not a monster." The young woman stared at him, speechless. Oswald smiled at her with his eyes before continuing. "Yes, she experienced a rehabilitation at the hands of Hugo Strange. Yes, this process altered her DNA. But she is anything but monstrous. Indeed, she actually saved me from them one night, just a little over six months ago!" The crowd gasped in amazement. Cameras flashed. Journalists jotted down notes and made quick sketches of Ruby and Oswald's faces.

Ruby, hardly used to being the center of attention, just hoped that these lapdogs would lose interest soon.

As if sensing her discomfort, Oswald redirected the crowd's eyes to himself. "Ruby Sinclair inspired me. She showed me what it means to protect another human being, and to do it properly. And that is why you all have her to thank since as your mayor, I promise that every man, woman, and child will. Be. Safe!" The crowd exploded into wild applause. Ruby flashed Oswald a thumbs-up. Oswald winked back, grinning.

The roar of the crowd concealed the squeal of tires. But nothing could mask the echo of gunshots. The crowd was quick to drop down or hightail. Oswald quickly covered his head as the perpetrators appeared. They were all wearing red hoods over their heads, with black glass vision spheres. Ruby's heart thudded against her ribs. The Red Hood gang? Weren't they dead?

No dead man can shoot a Tommy gun at the sky. Or make their way up the steps.

What appeared to be the head honcho faced Oswald. "No one is safe. Not from us."

Butch appeared beside Oswald, his hand on his gun. The Red Hood leader aimed his own weapon at the beefy man. "Drop it!" The rest of the gang pointed their guns at the man, ready to punch more holes in him than a colander. Butch stood there, seemingly contemplating his options. Realizing that he had none, he let the gun fall.

A vicious yell rebounded through the air. "Hey, idiots!"

Several of the Red Hoods turned around. One got a face full of milkshake. He stumbled backwards, stunned beyond action. Before his team's eyes, a figure materialized out of nowhere and seized his head. One grabbed his chin, the other his scalp. There was one rapid movement. The man fell to his feet. His head had been twisted all the way around, with ugly creases in his neck. Oswald gasped, horrified.

Ruby stood before the Red Hood gang, one of their members dead at her feet, grinning darkly. Then, with a yell she charged.

Everything in the next few seconds was a blur. Even if you stared at it, you could not catch all that was unfolding. One moment, Ruby was waving her arm and unleashing daggers of flesh on the closest targets. The next, she was wrapping her rubbery body around someone and squeezing until they lost consciousness. With another, she picked him up as one would a toy and tossed him. He crashed into the shimmering waters of a fountain ten feet away.

She was a force of nature. The men reacted the only way they knew how.

"OPEN FIRE!" The leader screamed.

"NO!" Oswald yelled.

Ruby turned to clay in the time it took them to squeeze their triggers. A cloud rose where she had once stood. Gunshots shredded the air. Where Ruby had stood was now a storm of bullets, unseen and inaccessable. Edward stared at it all through cloudly lenses, unsure of how to feel. Butch was hyperventilating, unable to look away.

Before Oswald registered his actions, he tackled the leader from behind. He got an elbow in the teeth that knocked him back.

At last, the ammo ran out. The leader held up a hand signalling his men to wait. Slowly, the dust was carried off into the wind. An unbearable silence fell over the plaza. Then, when the last traces of dust faded, everyone gasped at the sight.

Ruby was still standing. Alive, but not well.

She was wincing and grimacing. Blood spotted her face, arms, and clothes. But that was not the worst part. What truly ripped at Oswald's heart were the hundreds of bullets embedded into Ruby's body. Sticking out of her flesh and clothes like barnacles on sea boulders. Ruby stood there, wavering from side to side. Then, she jolted. All of the bullets shot out of her skin like tiny aircrafts. They hit their original owners with a force that sent them bouncing backwards. Oswald gasped, then looked at Ruby. Specifically, her side. The injured one, mirroring his own. It was sticky with blood.

Ruby's eyes rolled back. Then, she collapsed on the cement. Oswald's terror fused with fury. Angry tears filled his eyes as he turned to the Red Hood gang, who were struggling to stand. "You will pay for this!" He screamed at them. "Dearly!"

The leader laughed coldly at him. "Now, now, Mr. Mayor! Don't go losing your head!" Then, with water-like fluidity, he shot a few bullets into his stone mother's neck. The head cracked, then slid off its shoulders. It came crashing down on the steps with a loud _clang_.

A smoke bomb went off right next to the head. Filling the air with noxious white vapor that stung the eyes and poisoned the throat. When it cleared, the Red Hood gang was gone. The statue was still ruined. Everyone was still shaken up. Ruby was still unconscious on the ground.

* * *

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

"Aw, come on, Boss! Everything went great!"

"No, it didn't! I told you; no one gets hurt! And what did you do? Open fire on the deputy mayor!"

"She killed Crazy Legs!"

"So? The world woulda killed him anyway! Look, I'm the boss here. I paid you to just scare 'em, not hurt anyone!"

"She's not even _human!_ "

"Yeah, she is! And if you step outta line again, I swear to God I'll tell her everything and let her have a second round with you twerps! If I had to pitch all of you against her, I'll bet my other hand that you won't win! Now get back out there and follow my damn orders!"

* * *

The wait outside the attic door proved one of the most difficult that Oswald had ever been forced to bear. The only times that came close were his father's sickness spells and his mother's deep slumber. Sometimes, as a child, he would fret over her whilst she slept. Gertrude Kapelput had slept so deeply, Oswald had been able to pass the vacuum around the house while she'd dreamed. Yet there had been moment when he had feared that she would not reawaken.

Today felt like that. Mixed in with a ton of guilt.

Never in a million years would he have expected the resurrected Red Hood goons to target him. Had they not been bank robbers? Self-appointed Robin Hoods of the modern day? What did a new mayor do to threaten that absurd idealism?

Well, Oswald decided that he did not care. The Red Hoods had challenged his authority. This wretched problem had to be nipped in the bud, lest more crooks began taking their example. This could simply not transpire.

They had hurt the two most important women in his life in one fell swoop.

At last, the doorknob turned. Oswald put down his chalice of wine in time to see the doctor step out. "Well?" He snapped.

The doctor sighed. "Well sir, Ruby's, um, abilities shielded her from any serious internal damage."

Oswald sighed with relief.

"However, I saw that she had a few broken ribs." The doctor continued. "I'm afraid that the fight doubled the damage. One rib even pierced a lung."

Oswald swallowed hard. "But you healed her, did you not?"

The doctor sighed. "I can't perform miracles, sir." A cold, pale hand seized the front of his coat and pulled him close. His face was inches away from the furious mayor's. "If you do not heal my friend," he hissed, " _you_ will be the one in need of a miracle."

The doctor swallowed hard, then stuttered, "I, um, managed to patch her up. I slipped a tube into the punctured lung and removed the excess blood before it could cause any breathing problems. Because of Ruby's powers, the damage is less severe than it would be. But still, I would recommend two weeks of as much rest as possible. No fighting. No housework. No exercise." He paused, then added, "The bullets, amazingly, did not penetrate the skin because of its claylike properties. But there will be bruises."

Oswald nodded. Trying to keep it together. "Thank you." Handing the doctor a hundred-dollar bill, he slipped past him. Into the attic. Instantly, the scent of medicine, anethesia, and blood struck his nostrils. Clapping a hand over his nostrils, he examined the bedroom. Everything was the same. Except, it wasn't. One of the small dishes that Ruby used to host her smaller stones had been adopted as a makeshift ashtray. A few stray bloodstains freckled the floorboards. Traces of cheap cologne lingered in the air. The place held the feeling of intrusion, of invasion.

"Oz?"

Oswald turned to the bed and felt relief wash over him like a tidal wave. Ruby looked quite well, considering the circumstances. Her skin's peach tone was intact, though her cheeks weren't as rosy as they usually were. Her hair looked like it had become the home of some small rodent. She had changed in more casual attire: a sweatshirt the bright red of a candy apple, and loose gray pants. Yet she had retained the opals on her wrists and around her neck. Ruby lit up when their eyes met. She was about to stand when Oswald held up a hand. "No, no. You mustn't strain yourself." He sat down next to her. Ruby rested her hand on his shoulder. "Okay, but are _you_ alright?"

Oswald gave her a genuine smile. "Yes, thanks to you."

Ruby blushed and looked away. "I just did what anyone would've done."

"But it wasn't 'anyone'." Oswald replied. "It was you. For the third time you've saved my life." His hand slipped into hers, their fingers intertwining. Ruby smiled softly as she squeezed his fingers. "You saved me, too. From myself. You gave me something to live for after your father died." Indigo eyes glimpsed up at him. "So I'd say we're even." Oswald sighed as he let go of her hand. Trapped her in a tight hug. Ruby responded, trying to take in everything about him. His slender form, his fine cologne, his silken clothes...his _thereness_.

Oswald stroked her wild hair, taking care not to tangle his fingers in it. Almost as much care as he put in stopping his tears. He did not know why he felt like crying, in all honesty. Perhaps he simply needed time to fully absorb Ruby's stable condition. Or perhaps his utter relief at seeing her alright, combined with his gratitude and earlier stress, had manifested itself in tears. Either way, he did not want to show them to Ruby. He wanted to keep her as stress-free as possible during her recovery. It was the least he could do.

When he was certain of his eyes' dryness, he pulled back. Ruby bit her lip, looking shy, as she spoke. "I'm sorry about your mother's statue."

Oswald felt as though a freshly-sealed wound had been pricked with a needle. He sighed, willing the tears not to show. "As am I."

Ruby took his hand in both of hers. Stroked it kindly. "Those Red Hood scum...I promise you, they'll pay for what they did." She gave a dark smile. "Some of them already did."

"The others will follow." Oswald promised. "Not merely for my mother's sake, but for yours."

Ruby chuckled as she looked away, feeling both bashful and flattered. "You can't compare me to your mother, Oz. It's like comparing a pack mule to a strong horse. Impossible."

"Oh, I will." Oswald insisted. "And you are no pack mule, Ruby Sinclair." He peered down at her face. Trying to analyze it. "This is hardly the first time I've heard you speak so lowly of yourself. When we fuse as Cobblair, you mentally berate yourself each time we err."

Ruby swallowed.

Oswald dipped a finger under her weak chin and pulled it up so that their eyes met. "Why? Why must you judge yourself so harshly?"

Ruby's eyes filled with tears. A few strayed down her cheeks as she spoke. "I...guess it's been a little bit of everything." She took the hand that was under her chin. Cracked a smile. "But I do have one thing I'm proud of."

Oswald waited.

Ruby's tiny smile widened. "Being your friend."

Oswald froze at the unexpected praise. Ruby continued, sounding shy but nevertheless determined to get her feelings across. "I'm...happy, and proud, to be your friend." She gave a small laugh. "Of all my gems and precious stones...I think you're the jewel I cherish the most."

Oswald stared at her with huge eyes. His insides felt as though they'd been infested with moths of light, slowly eating at him but causing no pain. Slowly, deliberately, he took her face in her hands. Ruby went rigid, her heart in her throat. He brought her closer. Ruby felt her skin grow feverish. She wondered if she should look him in the eye or close her own before-

Oswald rested her head on her chest. Holding her close in a loving embrace. Ruby could not deny the tiny kernel of disappointment, but the warmth rushing in her chest made her return the hug. They might have stayed like that all afternoon, the sunset rays painting the room gold. With Ruby berating herself the entire time for her cowardice. But nevertheless treasuring this moment. Saving it in a bottle, to be opened on the next blue day.

But alas, time does not always work the way we want. If ever. There came a solid knocking that broke the embrace as though it were sugar glass. Oswald and Ruby shared a look of surprise. "Who is it?" Oswald called.

"Butch." Came the rumbling reply. "Ready, Boss? All the important head honchos are downstairs."

Oswald nodded even though his thug could not see it. "Thank you, Gilzean. I shan't be a moment."

"Sure." There came a pause, then uncertainty dripped through the door: "Can I...come in for a sec?"

Oswald looked at Ruby. His expression was clear. It was her bedroom. Hence, her choice to let someone in.

The curly-haired woman thought for a moment, then swallowed and nodded. She reached out. Her arm doubled, tripled, quadrupled in length. It stretched across the room like a stick of chewed-up peach gum. The hand grabbed the doorknob, then turned. Creaking, the door yawned opened. Butch's semi-shaved head poked out. "Hey." He tried to sound cheerful and failed miserably. Ruby held up a hand in return. Encouraged, Butch walked inside. Looking awkward, he glanced about the room. When he noticed the gem collection, he whistled. "Damn. I haven't seen this much sparkle since My Little Pony was a thing."

Ruby snorted. Oswald scoffed.

"So, how ya feelin'?" Butch asked curiously. There was something strange in his expression that Ruby could not understand. Some kind of tension.

"Good, thanks." Ruby smiled. "I appreciate the visit."

"Yeah, well, least I could do." Butch rubbed the back of his fleshy neck. Avoiding eye contact. "Well, uh, you kicked their asses. The media loved it."

Oswald cocked a brow. "Is that so?"

"Yeah." Butch extracted his cellphone, pushed a few buttons, and held it out. Ruby took it, held carefully between silver-nailed fingers. She whistled. "Wow." Oswald peeked over her shoulder, pushing some of her hair out of the view. His eyes widened. True to Butch's words, the Internet was parading around Ruby's confrontation with the Red Hood. Some defined it 'A Clash of Titans, Gotham-Style'. Others claimed that, in light of this, they felt safer having 'a clay lady' as first deputy mayor. Incredulous, Ruby skimmed through the contents, her eyes growing bigger with each unearthed comment. "Wow." She repeated. "They abhored me. Now, they love me. Well," she handed the cellphone back to its owner, "as much as a large group of people can love anything."

Oswald looped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "You deserve every bit of it." He told her. "Savor this feeling."

Ruby grinned at him. Her eyes were as bright as the polished opals around her neck. "I will." Lightly, she bumped her head against his. "Now, go on before those dudes get impatient and start eating all the food."

Oswald chuckled as he rose from the bed. "Very well. If you need anything, do not come downstairs. Call a servant to bring you whatever you wish. And please stick to proteins today. You need your strength."

"Yes, _Mom_." Ruby winked at him as she lay down, the latest Stephen King already in her grip. Oswald saluted her as he left the room, with Butch in close pursuit. Ruby watched the door close. The room suddenly felt a bit colder and emptier than it had a moment ago.


	50. Chapter 49

Chapter 49

The saloon was silent, save for Oswald. He stared down at his stone mother's head, trying to hold the tears in. It did not do to reveal weakness. Especially not in front of this crowd. "Anything for you, my little Cobblepot." He recited. "You can count on me." Smiling sadly in recollection, he looked up. The table, shining amber in the sunset, was loaded with sinister men. Each one more scarred and fiendish than the other, these people had evaded the law for decades and would continue to do so until they died. And every single one of them answered to him. The sentiment sent tingles up his spine. "Those were the words that my mother would whisper to me each night as I fell asleep."

"She was a saint." Butch piped up from behind him.

Sighing internally, Oswald nodded. "Yes. A saint whose only wish was to love me. And what was her thanks? Not only did she take a knife in the back," he paused, glancing at Butch so as to get the message across, "but even in death, her memory is being desecrated!"

"Seriously?" A voice piped up. "This the reason we're here?" Oswald shot a glare at the voice's owner - Gianni Rivera, the leader of many former Falcone underlings. A big, stupid thug who spent more on hair oil than Oswald spent on his entire wardrobe. He could afford it, considering he had two drug rings circulating Gotham's citizens. "A little glue, some paint...Mom'll be just fine, huh?" He shot the statue a mocking look as he began to stand up.

Oswald seized him by the nape of the neck. In one rapid motion he brought his face down on the statue's. His nose snapped like a Kit-Kat bar. Crying out, Rivera slid back in his chair, clutching his nose. Blood seeped from between his fingers. The entire entourage jerked in their seats. Oswald gave him a tight smile. "No. That is not the reason you are here." He straightened. "The Red Hoods have challenged my authority. They must be made an example of. Tomorrow night, my historic victory will be celebrated-"

"At the Sirens." Barbara shot up from her chair, a martini perched between her manicured fingers. "It's going to be _fabulous_." She cast a snarky look at the table. "None of you are invited."

Oswald rolled his eyes before getting on with his order. "I want them found, and their leader's head brought to me on a spike before nightfall."

There was a moment of silence. Everyone stared at him, expecting to hear more.

Oswald slammed both fists on the table. "WHAT'RE YOU WAITING FOR?!" He screamed. "FIND THEM!" Everyone jumped from their seats and scattered, practically fighting for the door. Oswald stared down at the statue head, barely able to hold in his fury.

* * *

Ruby pushed the needle into the carmine fabric, careful not to piere her thumb. With one hand, she held the two folds of silk. With another, she upheld the picture. The gown that she was making was not of her own design. Rather, it was inspired by ball dresses of the previous century. But while the dress in the photo was cream-colored, she had chosen silk the color of oxblood. The bodice was tight enough to show her average form, but loose enough to allow free breathing and comfortable movement. From the waist down it exploded into folds of soft, crimson silk. Two long strands of pink pearls hung from the bodice's sides, connected at two points like very loose laces. Another strand, this time of carnelians, hung from the front like a necklace for the abdomen. Two finished silk gloves, trimmed with her namesake, sat on the desk.

Smiling, Ruby wiped the sweat from her brow and stepped back. It looked lovely, especially after days of laborious work. Ever since news of this event had reached her ears, Ruby had worked during every spare moment and hid it in the closet on the rare occasion of visitors. Each day, she had contributed something to the gown. Years of mending and sewing other people's clothes had made this easy work, but nevertheless long-lasting.

Hopefully, it would make her a worthy date for Oswald.

Ruby hung her head. She hadn't even gathered to courage to ask him yet. Funny; she had faced several armed-to-the-teeth hooded thugs with more anger than fear. Yet her she was, trembling like a leaf at the thought of asking a man out.

But it wasn't just any man. It was Oswald. Oswald Cobblepot, the criminal kingpin and new mayor. The first person that she had ever fused with, who had ever known her secret besides the scientists. The clever, dominant, proficient, ambitious, stubborn, loyal man who would no doubt go down in history. The man who had stolen her heart bit by bit over the past eighteen months without even realizing it.

Ruby lightly slapped herself on the forehead. Sighing.

There came a knock on the door. "Ruby?"

Ruby froze, then spat out, "Just a minute!" She jumped to her feet, grabbed the dress, and dumped it in the closet. Slamming its doors closed and turning the key, she turned to seek for further evidence. Seeing the gloves, she quickly stashed them into the desk's drawer along with the thimbles, spools of thread, and spare needles. Then, for good measure, she leapt onto the bed. Grabbed the half-finished King novel. "Come in!" She called.

Oswald opened the door. Upon seeing her still on the bed, he smiled with satisfaction. "Good. You need your strength."

"Y-yeah." She agreed, praying that her face didn't look as hot as it felt. "Um, I'm feeling a lot better now."

"Excellent." Oswald entered the room, closing the door behind him. Ruby patted the space next to her. He sat down. Sighed, he leaned forward and covered his face with his hands. Ruby's mouth became a thin, lipless line. She gently stroked his back as he struggled to control his breathing. Patiently, she waited for him to gather himself. When at last he did, he spoke through his pale fingers. "If the Red Hoods cannot be apprehended-"

"They will be." Ruby assured him.

"Those buffoons will never find them."

"Yes, they will." Ruby replied. "And...if it's necessary, I'll look for them."

Oswald turned to look at her.

Ruby went on. "I tracked down Fish Mooney once. I can do the same thing with those thieves."

Oswald gave the crack of a smile. "Remember that night?" He did not need to specify. It had been both on their minds, just beyond the edge of consciousness, since its genesis. Ruby had never brought it up, though; not in thought when forming Cobblair, nor in conversation. She had wanted Oswald to mention it when he was ready. She patted his back. "Sure do. I saw it through one of your eyes, after all."

Oswald chuckled softly.

* * *

 _Twigs crunched. Long, wild grass swayed with movement. Even with the distant shouts, Oswald heard them coming. Two of his enemies. Both had crippled him. One in body. One in mind. And they would pay for those handicaps in blood._

 _Icy-blue eyes, hidden by the great oak's shadow, widened with excitement. There, painted silver by moonlight, were Professor Hugo Strange and Fish Mooney. Stange wore a white prison outfit while Fish sported a peculiar gown of sea-green and deep blue, with a gold frame around her neck. She looked like some sort of peculiar marine goddess. Too bad that soon, she'd just be a rotting carcass._

 _He turned to Ruby. Her eyes were distant and glassy. With each gunshot, a tear spilled down her cheek. Momentarily forgetting his revenge, Oswald took her hand. The comforting act only broke her more. Her face crumpled a bit. "I tried to warn them," she whispered, "I told them to leave Gotham, gave them money, locations...but they said no." More tears made their way down her cheeks. "I should've done more."_

 _"Ruby, look at me." Oswald took her face in his hands. It was hot and wet from crying. Icy-blue met indigo. "You did all that you could have done, and more. No one is blaming you. If you want the true perpetrator," he gestured before them, "he is right there, attempting to escape justice." Oswald dropped his hand. "I need your help to bring them both down." His voice cracked a little. "Please. I...I'm not certain that I can do this alone."_

 _Ruby stared at him for a long moment. Then, she closed her eyes. When she looked at him again, the tears had dried. "Okay." Their foreheads touched, eyes closed._

 _A gun clicked. Fish and Strange froze in their tracks. Their eyes widened as a figure emerged from the shadows. It took shape, sharpening, as it stepped into the pallid moonlight. Cobblair, wearing Oswald's deep purple suit with Ruby's sneakers and red shirt. Sapphire earrings hung from their lobes, with a garnet necklace gleaming in the light like reddish-brown stars. They pointed a polished gun at them. Smiling darkly. Mismatched eyes flitted at the two men behind the targets. "Go!" They ran off, melting into the darkness. Strange and Fish stood alone, completely vulnerable. Cobblair chuckled, sounding very much like their male counterpart. "That's better. Just old friends."_

 _"What-?" Fish squinted at Cobblair. Saw the familiar raven hair, curled now, and hunched shoulders. The beak-like nose and icy-blue eye. "Oswald-"_

 _"Don't call me that!" The person's voice deepened. "My name is Penguin!" A tear dribbled down their face. From the indigo eye. "Do you know how long I've been looking for you? How long I've waited for this very moment?"_

 _"Mr. Cobblepot," Strange sounded more surprised than scared, "you...you and Miss Sinclair...you've fused?"_

 _"Quiet!" Cobblair snapped. The gun edged a little closer. Ready to fire._

 _"So this it? I spare your life...and you shoot me dead in the woods like an animal." Fish sounded...odd when she said it. Hurt. Offended, too. Cobblair blinked, looking uncertain for the first time since their entry. Their face rippled like the surface of a lake. Frowning, they looked down. "Oz, are you sure you want to do this?" Their voice became more musical. Feminine._

 _"You promised you would assist me!" The voice deepened again._

 _"I want to help!" Became high again. "But what if she's right? She could've killed us when..." Their face rippled again. Stablized. Cobblair closed their eyes, took a deep breath, and pointed the gun at a blank-faced Fish. "Yes! I intend to do exactly that! But I will admit...that night under the bridge stayed with me. Why?"_

 _"Why what?" Fish asked._

 _"Why didn't you kill us?" Cobblair took a few steps forward. Gestured to themselves. "We had formed for the first time. We were completely unstable, ready to fall apart at the first inconvenience. So, why didn't you kill me? I would have killed you in an instant!" There was a long silence. Strange was still admiring the result of his work. Taking in every detail, jotting down notes in his mind. He wondered how it felt, to be binded with someone in both mind and body. Then, he wondered why this amalgam wasn't a hideous mutant like the ones he had forced Basil to fuse with. The results would have four arms, no legs, too many eyes...yet this was more or less normal. Androgynous, but normal._

 _Fish looked at Cobblair with no such quandries in her eyes. Rather, there was a softness there that Oswald had never seen before. Its alien presence nearly risked Cobblair's composition. "Answer me!" They yelled at last._

 _"Because you're mine." Fish said simply. Cobblair froze. Stared, eyes wide and lips parted._

 _"You were my umbrella boy, remember?" Fish asked. "You rubbed my feet when they were tired. And now look at you." She smiled at last. "The terror of Gotham!" Her expression grew solemn once more. "Everything I've ever done in my life...possibly, the best thing was turning Oswald Cobblepot into the Penguin." She shook her head. For the first time, Cobblair saw the tears in her eyes. Mismatched, like theirs. "I couldn't destroy that."_

 _Cobblair's mouth opened, then closed. The gun lowered, bit by bit._

 _"Ask him." Fish gestured to Strange. "He understands what it is to bring something into being. He did that with your friend, breathing new life into her. It is a part of you. Forever." Her voice dropped to a passionate whisper. Her eyes wide and imploring._

 _It proved too much. For either of them._

 _Cobblair gave a choked gasp. Dropping the gun, they backed away. Clutching their head as though suffering a migraine. Groaning, their voice climbing up and down the octave scale. Their body began to glow, every molecule making up their frame blazing. Then, in the time that it took Fish and Strange to exchange a worried glance, the bright figure split in two like a piece of kindling. Oswald wobbled, unsteady on his feet, whilst Ruby sat dazed beside him._

 _Strange nodded. The fusion had broken. No surprise. Under extreme emotional or physical stress, the union melted like hot wax. Still, it had potential. Too bad he would never witness its progress._

 _Oswald stood before Fish, head bowed and breathing steadily. Ruby rose, brushing dust from her shirt and jeans. Nodding at Strange, she took her friend's hand. Fish stood calmly. Waiting for whatever would be decided._

 _Oswald looked up at her. His expression was one of mourning. Regret, even. "Goodbye, Fish."_

 _Fish blinked in surprise._

 _Oswald shook his head. "Don't come back."_

 _Fish and Strange exchanged another glance, this one drenched in amazement. Without dawdling they broke into a jog, leaving Gotham and all of their sins behind. For now._

 _Ruby twisted her head to watch them go, a hand covering her mouth. Contrasting emotions head-butted. On one hand, she was relieved that the matter had been resolved without bloodshed. God knew there had been enough of that tonight. But on the other hand, she worried. Would Oswald's kind deed be appreciated? Or be seen as a sign of weakness?_

 _Oswald!_

 _She turned to him. He closed his eyes as tears streamed. Without the shadow of a thought Ruby collected him in her arms. Whispering sweet nothings as he cried silently. "You did the right thing." She told him quietly, stroking his hair. "It's going to be okay."_

* * *

Ruby gave a slight chuckle. "We un-fused. So unprofessional."

Oswald cracked a tiny smile. Then, he quickly grew serious again. He turned to look at her. "I should not have asked you to form Cobblair with me."

"It's alright-"

"No, it's not." Oswald shook his head. Looked away. "If there is anything that I have learned over these past months is that what we do is a choice. I did not give you a choice. Rather, I asked you to help me abuse this power we share in the name of vengeance." He scratched his cheek. Looking embarrassed, he glanced at her. "I never said it, but...I am sorry."

Ruby gave a simper. Wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I was never mad. Honest. You're my best friend. If I can help make you happy, I want to."

Oswald's cheeks turned light pink. He smiled down at his well-polished shoes.

Ruby swallowed, seeing her chance and feeling something short of terror. "Er, in fact, uh..."

Icy-blue eyes landed on her face.

"There's something I...I've been meaning to ask you." Ruby closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and spoke so quickly it all sounded like one word. "Willyougototheballwithme?"

Oswald blinked, then frowned. "Pardon?"

Ruby's cheeks were like hot coals. "I said," she grumbled, "Will you...go to the ball..." She winced in anticipation. "...With me?"

Oswald blinked again. This time it was slow and froggish. Disbelieving. For a moment, Ruby thought that maybe he hadn't understood. Then, a wide smile made its way on his pallid face.

* * *

The next day dawn gray and dark, as though the sun had been ensnared in a smoky cage. Mist still hovered above the ground, hiding the rose bushes, fallen leaves, and steps leading to the gate. The only weapon against the gloom were the countless lights and candles that Ruby had the servants blaze all over the mansion. All five of the fireplaces (one on each floor) burned with a crackling vitality. Scented candles sat in see-through puddles of their own wax, sending off waves of warmth and rich sweetness. The lamps and chandeliers, enhanced by the crystals around them, cast tiny rainbow shards across the ceiling.

Yet all of the light in the world could not illuminate the shadows within Oswald's heart. Nightfall had come and gone, with no trace of the revitalized Red Hoods.

Oswald sipped at his wine. Pacing back and forth as Edward worked diligently on the table. A plate full of cherry scones, courtesy of Ruby, sat nigh untouched on the polished wood. The 'special' coffee that Ruby had made Edward sat hotly in the saucer, half-empty. A Red Hood mask sat before him. Daring him to uncover its secrets.

"Someone is testing me, Ed." Oswald spoke nervously. Assuredly. "They're thinking, 'Oh, he's mayor now. He has to play by different rules.' They'll see...when I'm roasting their entrails over a fire." He took another determined sip of his wine, imagining it to be the blood of his enemies.

Edward set down his fountain pen, lips pursed. "Perhaps I'm thinking about this all wrong."

Oswald stopped pacing. The chalice of wine still in his hand.

"Perhaps this isn't about you at all." Edward mused. "What if this is about the statue?"

Oswald blinked, then snapped. "Of _course_ it's about me!" His wine splashed with the same speed as his words.

Edward nodded. "Yes, you're probably ri-oh, dear." His eyes rested on his friend's sleeve, now speckled with red drops. Oswald's eyes followed the trail. He sighed. "Wonderful." Setting the glass down, he shook his sleeve in an attempt to dry it.

"Oswald," Edward seized the salt cellar, "take a breath." Oswald huffed and puffed, trying in vain to stay calm. Edward hurried to his friend's side, grabbing the wet sleeve. Then, to Oswald's stupor, he sprinkled the fabric with salt. "What're you doing?"

"It's an old trick I learned in the lab." Edward dabbed at the salty, wet sleeve with a cloth napkin. "Most solvents have salt as their base-" He stopped abruptly, looking up. Behind his huge glasses and, beyond them, his eyes, thousands of pieces suddenly fit together. He gave a confused Oswald a toothy grin. "I am the son of water, but if water touches me I die. What am I?"

Oswald groaned. "Again with the riddles-"

"Salt." Edward replied. "Most people think of it as a food additive, but _potassium_ salt can be found in detergents, soaps..."

Oswald cut him off with a tight smile. "What is your point, Ed?"

Edward smiled at him. "I know where the Red Hoods are."


	51. Chapter 50

Chapter 50

From that moment onward, the mansion was encased in bedlam.

Oswald shouted orders at the servants, telling them to keep the place protected. The maids and manservants ran to and fro, trying to follow his orders almost as quickly as he could spout them out. Zsaz, among other guards, were chosen to accompany him and Edward. When Zsaz asked Oswald if 'his pet creature' was coming, too, Oswald punched him in the nose. With a bandaged face, Zsaz loaded on guns and ammo. Meanwhile, Edward looked up every detergent factory in Gotham and circled the ones that had been abandoned. Then, in a matter of minutes, he deduced that the Red Hood gang was hiding in one located in the Narrows.

"We should leave right away," he said, "before they can escape."

"Right," Oswald nodded, "But not without Butch. He's the soldier that I would trust most when entering enemy territory."

Edward cocked a brow. "What about Sinclair?" His tone held a hint of hope that fell on deaf ears. Oswald shook his head. "No. Ruby is much more to me than that."

The taller man scowled and pushed his glasses up. "Very well. You'd best call Butch before he deprives the city of its red meat supply."

"What's going on?"

Heads turned.

Ruby, still in a Star Trek hoodie and baggy jeans, was standing in the doorway. Looking at the set-up with big, concerned eyes. Oswald wasted no time in appearing before her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Ruby, you shouldn't be out and about. Please go rest."

Ruby quirked a brow at him. "You didn't answer my question." Her look grew even more worried. Her hands rested on his wrists. "Did something happen?"

"Yes." Oswald gave her a tiny smile. "We've located the Red Hood gang."

Ruby's eyes threatened to pop. "What?"

"Yes!" Oswald's smile grew a bit. "We plan on confronting those interlopers." Icy-blue eyes narrowed with wicked intentions. Up close and personal."

"I'm coming with you." Ruby said immediately.

"But your ribs-"

"To hell with my ribs!" She retorted hotly. "Yours are broken, too, and you're moving around."

"I hold many responsibilities." Oswald countered. "If I left these tasks undone, they would only multiply." Seeing the anxiety in those dark blue orbs, he released one shoulder and placed his hand on her cheek. "I will be fine, Ruby. I promise. I've got five bodyguards coming with me. Six, if Butch will have to decency to present himself."

Ruby stared at him for a long moment. Seeing that his mind was made, the decisions as thick and solid as cement, she sighed. "Okay." She relented. "But if you come home with one scratch, I'll duct-tape your wrists to the bedposts and lock the door. I swear to God I will."

Edward spoke up. "You have no authority to do that to the mayor."

Ruby's voice was so cold that it was amazing that vapor didn't exit her lips. "I'm the first deputy mayor, Nygma. And, I have all the keys of this house. Try and stop me from doing it."

"Is that a challenge?" Edward rose from his seat.

"Oh, this oughta be good." Zsaz murmured, his voice clogged by the facial gauze.

"Will you two please stop?" Oswald cut in. His voice was somewhere between annoyed and disappointed. Ruby looked away, embarrassed. Edward scoffed and crossed his arms. Oswald turned back to Ruby. "I promise I'll be alright."

Ruby gave him the faintest of smiles. "Okay, Oz. I'm counting on it." Then, without warning, she reached up and slid her fingers into his shirt's collar. When they found the chain, they quickly fished it out. The zircon, bright and glassy as a frozen tear, shone in her palm. "You have _this_ , after all."

* * *

Tabitha shook her head at Butch. Wordless. It would have been better if she had yelled.

Butch was almost grateful when his cellphone began to vibrate within his pocket. Turning away, he flipped it open like an oyster shell and held it to his ear. "Gilzean."

"Butch, where are you?!" Oswald barked into the speaker. "The Red Hood gang is at a detergent factory in the Narrows. We're on our way."

With every word, Butch felt his stomach clench up more. By the time he hung up, it felt like someone had made a bow-tie of his guts. For a moment, he felt as though he would regurgitate his lunch. But no. He couldn't afford that. This feeling was nothing. He was above it. "Gotta go." He shot the words at Tabitha as he hurried through the Sirens' exit. Running as quickly as he could, with his destination clear as crystal in his mind.

* * *

The factory was a great, hulking structure of mossy bricks. Its two chimney protruded like fangs into the sky. Eveything was covered in grey dust, with every corner adorned with cobwebs. The lawn, whose grass was brown and dead, was littered with rubbish and shattered beer bottles. There was a barb-wire fence with a sign reading, 'KEEP OUT'. Its mesage would have been more powerful if it hadn't been for the crater-sized hole in said fence. Years of drunken teenagers and half-frozen homeless people had slowly contributed to it.

Pulling off the useless chains wrapped around the handle, Butch tossed them aside. He ran inside, trading damp semi-light for dark grey shadows. The place smelled of rust and sweat, forgotten moments and elbow grease. In the center of his vision, a lamp's wan luminescence burned through. Sitting around it were his old friends, playing cards and drinking like there was no tomorrow. Funny, how they could shoot so well even when they reeked of gin. Butch had never been one to indulge in alcohol, himself. Artillery and red hoods littered the small room.

In other words, it had 'guilty' written all over it.

"Get your things!" Heads turned at the resonance of his voice. "We're done. I'm breakin' up the band." Everyone rose, walking towards him. Too slowly. "I'm serious! Go! Get outta dodge!" Butch yelled.

"Hey," the leader piped up, "not for nothin', but you promised us a pay-day. And we're not leavin' 'til we get it."

In that moment came the screeching of tires. Butch's stomach churned as he turned to a broken window. Through the flapping strips of plastic, he caught sight of a familiar limousine. The Penguin emerged from the backseat, a black trenchcoat over his fine suit. His cane stomped against the pavement as though the cement had somehow offended him. His lackeys trailed behind him like smoke from a train.

Butch felt fear. But just for a moment. Grim determination took its place. Calmly, he ducked back inside. Walked towards a table, where a Tommy gun lay. He made his way back to his original spot. Where he had everyone on sight. "Well," he spoke to himself, "guess it was gonna happen, sooner or later." He held up the gun. The men froze. "Sorry, boys."

A storm of bloodshed, screams, and gunfire echoed within the room. Reaching the ears of Oswald, who hurried despite his bad knee. When he reached the source of the noises, a glorious sight awaited him: half a dozen men splayed across the chamber, leaking precious lifeblood from so many holes. Butch stood before it all, a smoking gun in his hand and a hesitant smile on his chubby face. "I did it, Boss." He said, slightly out of breath. "I got 'em for ya." He gestured for further emphasis.

Oswald stared at him, delight dancing in his eyes, when an inhuman moan broke through. All eyes fell on one man, still alive, trying to lurch for him. With one twitch of his finger, Butch silenced him forever. Oswald smiled at him, feeling more positively about his thug than he had in quite a while.

* * *

Night finally arrived. And with it, the dance.

The Sirens had been arranged beautifully for the occasion. Flashing white lights spun across the polished marble floor. The bar was fully loaded with every type of drink, alcoholic or otherwise. The furniture had been cleaned, the music lively. An ice sculpture of a ballerina overlooked the banquet table, where dozens of delicacies resided. The windows showed a magnificent view of the city below. Black buildings with twinkling windows were stark against a dark blue sky, with the occasional star winking through the pollution. The camera's constant flashing made one think of a great, blinking eye made of light. Great bouquets of silver balloons had been tastfully arranged on both ends of the stage, where the band played classical music.

The guests were just as gorgeous. They were like characters from a fairy tale: all shimmering dresses and stylish hair, polished shoes and glittering rings. The people laughed and chatted as they loitered on the bar, or sat upon the furniture. The light fell upon them all, like some heavenly blessing.

Among them, Oswald almost felt like an ugly duckling in a pond filled with swans. His bum leg was the main reason for this, but not the only one. Seeing all of these beautiful, important people only reinforced every fault in his appearance. His bad posture and hunched shoulders, which were so prominent even Cobblair had inherited them. His long, beak-like nose that was constantly dark with blackheads. His angular face that made people think he didn't eat enough. His gaunt figure. His long hands and yellowish fingernails, stained from a brief smoking habit that had infested his teen years. His pallid skin that brought a fish's belly to mind.

Usually, he could hide - or at least minimize - all of those unpleasant features with lovely clothes. Nobody would take notice of his fingernails if he wore expensive rings. No one would scoff at his ashen complexion if he wore colors that complimented it.

But not tonight. Hence the 'almost'. Tonight, he wasn't some geeky kid at prom, finding refuge in a corner with a nice, dense book. Nor was he a youngster waiting in vain for a woman that would never show up. No. Tonight...he was the mayor. The reason of this party. And he had done his best to look the part. He wore a cobalt suit, with a black bow-tie and a deep purple vest. The zircon stone rested on his heart, the chain looser than usual. Black leather shoes crowned with spats adorned his feet. Every inch of him was perfumed, prim, and perfect.

A leader.

Who had yet to see his date.

Oswald glanced at his diamond-encrusted watch before letting out a sigh. He was about to pop a few more mints when something...he wasn't sure what...fell upon him. It felt like the sensation one gets when they are being watched, combined with a warm breeze. Was it due to Cobblair? Probably so. He couldn't remember ever having shared such a connection, even with his parents.

Slowly, he turned around. There, among the sea of strangers, stood Ruby. Oswald's eyes widened. His date - he still couldn't believe it - was wearing a silk gown the color of fresh blood. The bodice was tight enough to reveal her average figure, but below it the bountiful fabric rippled like waves with every movement. Two long strands of pink pearls had been sewn into the bodice's sides, lightly meeting one another. Ruby's blonde-brown-gray hair, freshly washed, was being kept out of her face by two small pins. Ruby, who normally never put anything on her face except for moisturizing cream at night, had put on mascara and lip-gloss. A simple black choker was tied around her neck. Long, red gloves covered her hands and most of her arms. Black slippers covered her feet, which peeked out from under the dress's hem.

Oswald had known her for a year and a half, spent most of every day with her since their first encounter, and he had never considered her beautiful. This was not out of malice but simple fact. Ruby was not beautiful by nature. No shame in that. By no means ugly, though. Okay-looking, usually; during the night of the campaign, he had considered her lovely.

Now...Oswald had no words.

Ruby approached him. Looking as nervous as he felt. Seeing his expression, she bit her lip. "Hi."

"Hi." Oswald answered.

"Do..." She winced, as though the words hurt, "Do I look okay?"

Oswald recuperated his vocabulary. "You look stunning."

Ruby blinked. She had been hoping for a 'great' at best. Grinning bashfully she looked away, blushing all the way up to her roots. Oswald gave a tiny laugh, not understanding why. He suddenly felt like a teenager again...but better. Ruby, looking both nervous and happy, looked around in awe. She looked like a kid in Disneyland. That was all Oswald needed to snap out of his shyness. Compassion took its place. He remembered that Ruby had spent most of her life locked up in a room, hidden from the world. She hadn't experienced the events that he had taken for granted. Going to school. Checking out books in a library. Attending dances. Eating a sandwich at Subway before returning home. She had missed all of it.

If he could have, Oswald would have traded his past for hers. If only to let her feel a mother's love, at least.

Ruby sensed his eyes on her. Blushing again, she laughed. "Sorry. I'm just standing here with my mouth open like a dolt." Her hand, wrapped in satin, took his. "C'mon, let's mingle with the fancy folk."

Ten minutes later, the tension had dried and broken away like terracotta. After helping themselves to some tiny club sandwiches (with Ruby deftly removing the bacon and ham from hers), the two split up and spoke to whomever looked important. Ruby was asked what it was like working with the mayor - indeed, being a first deputy mayor. She made sure to sing Oswald's praises. The journalists jotted down her every word as though she were Moses, and their notepads were to host the new Testaments. Oswald spoke passionately of the changes that he wanted to propel onto the city. He shook the hands of more gentlemen than he could count and shared many air kisses with the ladies. Throughout it all, he kept an eye out for Edward. To no avail.

In the midst of all this publicity, he didn't realize that he hadn't eaten in hours, and that small club sandwich had only made him hungrier.

He was about to lay siege to the banquet table when a voice called, "Mr. Mayor?" When he turned, a journalist with a camera around his neck was grinning at him. "A photo for the Gotham Gazzette?"

In response, Oswald grinned, brushed himself off, and straightened. The journalist held the camera over his eye, searching for the perfect angle.

Ruby's cheery voice suddenly tickled Oswald's ear. "Photo-bomb!"

Oswald turned to find Ruby hugging him from behind, resting her head on his shoulder. An impressive feat if one considered that she was a good five centimeters taller than he was - only seven less than Edward. He chuckled and covered her hands with his. "Photo hog." He playfully whispered at her.

"Aww, ain't that sweet!" The journalist cooed. "Here; the first one, you get to keep. Get ready!" Oswald and Ruby quickly shifted positions so that they were sharing a one-armed hug; her arm across his shoulders, his around her waist. There was a flash, and then a purr. The photograph emerged from the machine, gray substance slowly taking form. Ruby's greedy fingers extracted it. Held it up against the light. Bit by bit, the images and colors sharpened. Within seconds, she was holding the little fragment of time. Smiling, Ruby hugged it as a child would a teddy bear. Then, she handed it to Oswald. Winking at her, he carefully slipped it in his jacket's pocket.

Across the room, sheathed in shadows, was a tall figure dressed in green. There was a plan in his head and anger in his heart as he looked at the two. He watched Oswald and Ruby say something, followed by the former offering the latter his arm. Giggling, she took it, they made their way to the buffet table, loaded their paper plates, and sat down at one of the vacant tables. Scooting close to each other, they began to dig in and chat idly. More than once, Ruby amused Oswald by mutating her hands into flesh-based origami. Oswald laughed and clapped in delight. Edward couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. But he could recognize a handmade dress when he saw one. Poor thing. She had tried too hard with that stupid outfit. Pink pearls? Gloves? Wrong century, dear. She had probably squeezed out her budget on those stupid trinkets she liked so much. If he had to guess, her entire attire had cost less than his shoes.

Well, it didn't matter. She wouldn't be laughing for long. Not when he slipped an invitation to her estranged parents, who should be arriving any moment now.

His plan was perfect. And it had no room for Ruby.


	52. Chapter 51

Chapter 51

The party went on in blissful timelessness. There was dancing, eating, and talking. The journalists took photos and compiled notes to their heart's content. Music shifted as slowly and naturally as the phases of the moon. R&B became classical, which in turn morphed into jazz and rock music. How the musicians were able to change their styles in such a chameleon-like manner was a mystery. How Ruby found the energy to dance to most of the songs was also a head-scratcher.

As she twirled, the folds of her dress flowing around her like red waves, Ruby caught Oswald's eye and waved at him. Smiling softly, he returned the gesture. Yet he soon found himself scanning the crowds again for Edward. From his table, Oswald could see everyone...and yet not the most important guest to him. He had promised to be here, to wear the forest-green suit that Oswald had bought him, and yet he was still absent. Each failed attempt to spot the tall man was like a tiny thorn in Oswald's chest. He sighed, drained another glass of red wine, and dabbed delicately at his mouth with a napkin. As the song faded into silence, a panting Ruby crashed in her chair. Amazingly, she hadn't sweated at all. "Whew," she sighed, "I haven't danced this much since..." She thought about it for a second, the shrugged. "Never."

Oswald chuckled. His hand covered hers. "I'm pleased that you are enjoying yourself."

"Yeah." Ruby smiled, then peered at him. "And you?"

Oswald blinked, caught off guard. "Me, what?"

"Are you having a good time?" Ruby asked. "I mean, you've barely moved from this spot since we took that picture." Her fingers slipped through his and squeezed. "Is something wrong?"

Oswald hesitated. How would Ruby feel if she knew the truth? She would probably be hurt, feeling that her presence was not good enough compared to Edward's. Oswald had already hurt her once; he had no intention of doing so again. He shook his head. "No, dear. I'm fine. Truly."

Ruby was not fully convinced, but nodded anyway. Casually scanning the room, her dark blue eyes suddenly lit up like firecrackers. "Look!" She pointed. Oswald turned to find the doors opening. Two figures walked into the light. One tall and buff, the other short and slender. The Son of Gotham. What would people think if he just so happened to mention that the new mayor had saved him? Twice?

Oswald cracked a smile. "Well," he said, "it'd be rude not to say hello."

With a squeak of delight Ruby jumped to her feet. Grabbing Oswald's hand, she all but plucked him out of his chair. As the spotlights travelled lazily across the dark air, with the music changed genre without missing a beat, Bruce Wayne searched the room for curly blonde hair. Instead, he saw red silk. Smiling a little, he bowed a bit at Ruby, who'd covered her mouth in amazement. "You look so handsome!" She complimented him wholeheartedly. Bruce blushed lightly. Indeed, he had taken particular care in his appearance. With a fine black tuxedo and Armani leather shoes, his hair combed back, he felt that he looked as good as he could. Selina would like it, he hoped. Though he would never admit how much her opinion mattered to him.

Ruby opened her arms. Bruce walked into them. She smelled of rosewater and mint. Warm and inviting, like a mother's embrace. Bruce allowed himself a moment of peace before pulling away. Ruby pushed a stray hair of his back into place as she greeted Alfred, "How's it going?"

"Quite right, miss. Thank ye." He replied kindly. "And how are ya? Bruce told me ye'd been in the hospital."

"Ah," Ruby waved a hand, "it's ancient history at this point, but thanks for your concern." Turning back to Bruce, she winked at him. "Looking for your date?"

Bruce bit his lip. "Maybe. You?"

"No need." Ruby couldn't hide the joy in her grin. "I'm with the man of the hour. Speaking of which..." She stepped aside as Oswald hobbled forth. Shaking both Bruce and Alfred by the hand, he greeted them with all the warmth of a campfire. "This festivity is made all the more fabulous with your presence, Mr. Wayne."

"It was my pleasure." Bruce didn't sound fully certain of that. "I...I never got to thank you for saving my life."

"Duty." Oswald nodded. "I am glad that I was able to help."

"You were." Bruce replied. "I wish you success in all..." He trailed off as his eyes caught sight of something. Oswald turned his head to see the source of Wayne's attention. A little wisp of a girl with a halo of dirty blonde curls. Bruce swallowed, "Excuse me." He slid past them like a shadow, hurrying towards the girl. Alfred was right behind him, ready to interfere should the meeting sour. The moment Selina saw Bruce, her expression shifted. Ruby and Oswald watched it all. She crossed her arms with a chuckle. "Love." Oswald made a slight 'hmm' sound that caught her attention. After a moment, she asked, "Oz? Have you ever..." She paused. "Been in love?"

Oswald frowned. "Why?"

Ruby shrugged. "I know enough about you to fill a book, but you've always been quiet about your social life." She turned slightly to face him. "But if you don't want to talk about it-"

"It's not that." Oswald interjected kindly. "I...I simply never thought about it myself. My mother would attempt to advise me, but..." He shrugged. "I suppose I was simply waiting for the right person." Ruby nodded, words bubbling in her throat. Before she could breathe life into them, she stopped. No. She couldn't. This was Oswald's night. She had no right to complicate it with her feelings. They could talk about it tomorrow...if her courage hadn't left her by then. That was when soft music reached both their sets of ears. The young woman winked at him. "It's a slow song." Oswald nodded, uncertain of her intention.

"Slow enough for a damaged knee?"

Oswald's eyes widened. "No! Ruby-"

Ruby rose from her chair, surprised by his reaction. "It's okay." She reassured him warmly.

"No, Ruby, I've never danced before in my life!" Oswald admitted. "Well, there was that time in Fish's club...but no one else was present."

"Dude, you're the star tonight." Ruby said. "You can't show up at a party for you and not dance. That's like the birthday boy not eating his slice of cake!"

Oswald stared at her, at the earnest kindness in her chinless face, and then at the dancefloor. The lights had dimmed. Couples were making their way to the dancefloor. Hands were joined. Foreheads touched. Sweet romance filled the air like a sweet scent. It was so alien, so unfamiliar, that Oswald choked out, "I can't."

Ruby got down on one knee in front of him. They were at eye-level now. "Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot," she said gently, "will you have this dance with me?"

Oswald's icy-blue shifted from her to the dancefloor again. He looked a bit less scared, but uncertainty was still printed on his angular face. Quickly, before he could change his mind, he dipped his chin in a nod. Ruby smiled. "Come on." Rising, she took both his hands. Guided him through the crowd of peaceful couples. Even through all of his layers, she could feel him shaking. She put a hand on his hunched shoulder. Once they reached an empty spot admist the moving bodies, Ruby faced him. "Okay. It's easy." She assured him. Taking his hands, she placed one on her hip and put her own on his shoulder. "See? Take my hand like this, good. And then just keep your hand there." She grinned. "And then we sway." They did. Oswald's heartbeat picked up the pace. The only thing between him and a panic attack, he felt, was Ruby's encouraging smile.

They danced for a bit then, swaying as they circled. Soft music surrounded them like a warm blanket. Oswald tried to ignore the slight ache in his leg, or the fact that there were about forty people here. He just had to dance. With Ruby. That made it better.

She smiled as though she'd heard his thoughts. "See, it's easy. You've got nothing to worry about. Your mind's faster than a whip." Oswald smiled bashfully as Ruby cocked a brow at him. "Then, if you wanna get fancy, we can 'dance with the stars'. Eh?"

Oswald shook his head fearfully. He could hear the mocking laughter already. As he had countless times.

"Ready?"

"No."

Ruby spun, her hand locked into Oswald's. He held on for dear life. She completed her spin, reassuming the previous position. "And that was the first one."

Oswald chuckled a bit. "This...is fun." As he said this, his fear dwindled somewhat. And with every step they took, it crumbled away even more. Until soon, it was gone. There was just music. Serenity. And a quiet joy.

* * *

Butch sighed as he walked away from the party, feeling more than a little guilty. All of this merit, all of this praise...was based on a lie. He couldn't even begin, really, to get away when Nygma's grating voice smacked into him. "There he is, the man of the hour. I have a surprise for you, Butch."

"Not in the mood." Butch tried to walk past the man in green. But all he got was a box tapping his broad chest. Sighing, he stilled his pace. In the semi-lit corridor, far from the luminescence and music of the party, no one could see what was going on. Might as well get this over with. He held up the box. "What's in here?"

"Open it." Nygma invited with a grin.

Gee. It was no wonder Ruby couldn't stand this guy.

Butch half-heartedly opened the 'gift', stuffed his hand in paper, to find cloth. He held it up. A red ski mask. Wow. "Thanks." He tossed it in Nygma's face. To his credit, the beanpole caught it. "I already got one."

"Oh," Nygma said, "of course you do." He held it up for Butch to see. "And you certainly wouldn't need this one, seeing as it's very similar to your own pocket square." He smirked. "This is from the Red Hood crime scene. Turns out, your suit and the Red Hood gang's suits were all made by the same tailor, Mr. Fuji."

Butch felt as though a frozen, skeletal hand had seized his guts. At the same time, anger bubbled within his ribcage like burnt stew. He knew all too well which emotion would prevail. He kept his tone void of sentiment, for now. "That's some coincedence."

"I thought so myself." Nygma's grin widened. "Which is why I called Mr. Fuji and he told me that a large man with a metal hand - not a lot of those running around - bought all six of the suits, which means, ta-da! You're the architect of the Red H-"

Butch's meaty hand curled around Nygma's throat like a boa. Easily, he slammed the thin man against the wall. The soft music was loud enough to muffle it. Butch glared down at the choking man, who was pathetically clinging to the hand like he expected freedom. "I should snap your neck. Right now."

Edward sputtered. "But, you haven't heard my offer."

Butch waited for a beat, then roughly pulled away. Edward took a deep breath, massaging his aching throat. Knowing that he had only a few seconds before the man's anger returned, he spoke quickly. "We kill Penguin together."

Butch laughed. "What're you talkin' about? You're his guy!"

"Oh, please. You fell for that act?" Edward asked. "Yes, he got me out of Arkham. Very appreciative. But I was not cut out to be Number Two. I've simply been waiting for my moment, which you have graciously provided." He stood back, struck a little pose. "How would you like to run Gotham with me?"

Butch chuckled again. "The two of us? Workin' together?"

"You have proven yourself far more cunning than I imagined." Edward replied. "Now, I assume this little drama of yours was going to climax tonight. So," he held up the mask again. "Put on the hood. Kill Penguin. I'll help you escape. Tomorrow, we divide up the city."

Butch stared at him for a long moment. His mind was in a dozen different places at once, but each thought was colored black with suspicion. He stared at this thin, bespeckled man and remembered everything that he'd done: murdered his own girlfriend, chopped up the body and buried it in the woods, framed a cop for a crime he hadn't committed, and tried to poison the little prince of Gotham. He was ruthless, perhaps even more so than Butch. It didn't take a genius to guess what would happen if Butch let him get too close.

He tried one final card. "You'd really turn on him? After all he did for you?"

Edward turned back towards the party. Towards the couple that he'd been observing since the moment he'd spotted them. The slow song finally over, Ruby and Oswald had finished their dance and were retreating to their table. Ruby was grinning and shaking his shoulders. Her lips read, "You did it! I'm so proud of you!" Oswald bumped her shoulder with his, looking as bashful as a teenager, before drawing back Ruby's chair for her. She giggled behind her hand before thanking him and sitting down. It was so sweet that it was giving Edward a toothache.

Well, whatever. Let Sinclair enjoy this moment.

"In a heartbeat." He grinned.

Butch glared at him before spitting out, "No." He was about to move away when a spidery hand rested on his chest.

"Okay," Nygma said, "then I guess it's time for surprise number two."

Two minutes later saw them in the industrial-sized kitchen. Unpleasant company awaited them amongst the stainless steel and gleaming silver. One individual was familiar, smiling coldly and waving.

Butch tried to control his breathing. "You got to Zsaz?"

"I got to Zsaz." Edward confirmed. A thug lumbered into view, dragging a woman along the way. Butch felt like he'd gotten punched in the gut. It was a lovely, slender woman with dark skin and black hair piled high above her head. Silvery eyeshadow matched her glittering dress perfectly. But in that moment, she didn't look beautiful. She didn't look scared, either. She was furious.

"And he got to Tabitha." Edward concluded, grinning like a loon throughout it all. One of the men reached into his jacket's inner pockets and summoned a gun. Without a shred of hesitation he aimed it at Tabitha. "Penguin's history." Edward said. "Question is..." He held out the red mask again, "...are you?"

* * *

Oswald stood at the bar, downing a hearty glass of wine. Soon - within the next fifteen minutes, actually - would see him giving a speech. One would have thought that, given the dozens of speeches that he had given both before and after the election, that speaking to a crowd would come naturally to him. Oswald had thought so, too. He had not even prepared his words in advance because the media had praised his improvised speeches above all else. He was certain that tonight would be no different. But he hadn't expected to feel this way tonight.

Flattered and moved, on the surface. But beneath, he felt something much more complicated that he simply could not label.

The dance with Ruby had been nothing short of magical. He had never done something like that in his life, but it had been worth the wait. The way their bodies had gently moved in tune to the music, the warmth of her gaze and hand...even fusing as Cobblair didn't come close. When they were one, he couldn't look at her. In that form, they were not Oswald and Ruby, but someone else entirely, the sum of their parts and more. The physical manifestation of their friendship. But this...there were no words for it.

Oswald dabbed at his mouth. Trying to bottle up these emotions. He did not understand them yet, but he felt that they could cause him to stumble tonight. That simply couldn't do. He had to present a proud image tonight. Sublime. Strong, but elegant. A worthy leader. These feelings would just have to wait.

The distant _clack-clack_ 's of high heels on marble caught his attention. Curious, Oswald looked up from his empty glass. He had been certain that all guests had arrived. Honestly, who would risk running late at a party as refined as this? It would be like showing up at the queen's coronation just as the crown rested atop her head. It was an experience to be fully savored, not partially tasted.

Oswald shrugged. Oh, well. Their loss. He might as well greet them so as to show he held no grudge. Well, he did. But they didn't need to know that. Brushing himself off, he limped towards the yawning doors. Each step sent a dull needle in his knee. But the people couldn't see him as a cripple, leaning on a piece of wood. He had to show off how he'd surpassed his physical handicap, without the help of a cane.

At last, the clack-clack's drew close. The shadows parted to reveal their source.

Oswald froze. A man and a woman walked through the doors, each one robed in utter, indisputable finery. The woman's voluptuous figure was sheathed in royal purple. A golden zipper, born between ample breasts, slithered down to just above the knees. Golden bangles hung from the woman's ears and circled her wrists, but her neck was bare. Honey-colored hair was fashioned in large, extravagant curls. Her milk chocolate eyes were framed with mascara, her lips red as rose petals. The man was no worse off. Tall and slender, he had fair hair combed back to reveal a round, catlike face. He wore a black suit, complete with an ebony bow tie and a silken handkerchief in his breast pocket. Both these people had to be in their late forties at best, early fifties at worst. Yet they were doing everything in their power to hide the passage of time.

Oswald felt the spit dry in his mouth as the couple apprached him, smiling with admiration. The man held out his hand. "Mr. Mayor! Good evening." He greeted warmly. "Please excuse our tardiness, but my sister's shoot went on forever."

Oswald made a small, croaking sound.

The woman nodded before offering her hand to him. "Opal Sinclair. And this," she nudged the man with her curvy hip, "fine hunk of meat is my brother, Jasper."

Oh, God.

Oswald finally snapped out of it. Forced a smile as he took Opal's hand and kissed it. "It's a pleasure to meet both of you." He tried to ignore his heart, which was pounding with a violence that almost caused him pain. "Miss...Sinclair, I have seen your image all around the city. You truly are worthy of your namesake."

"Oh, darling," Opal tossed her hair back, "don't I know it."

Jasper rolled his eyes. "Please excuse my sister. She has always been a vain woman."

Opal dropped her jaw in mocking shock. "Oh, you're one to talk, Mr. 'I ordered a bigger mirror for my office'!"

As the siblings shared a laugh, Oswald quickly stole a glance back at the table. Ruby had invited Bruce Wayne over. She was nodding, her expression solemn, as he spoke. Every now and then she interrupted to either ask something or make a comment. The two looked like a pair of siblings catching up over coffee.

She looked so...serene. Content. There was a glow to her that he hadn't seen before. He didn't want it gone.

Oswald turned back to the Sinclair siblings, who were still laughing at their own little joke. Up close, there was so much hidden behind the veil. The close proximity of their bodies. The way he looked at her. The way she brushed her hand over his. It made Oswald's stomach turn. He forced another simper as he spoke, "I, er, am sorry to inform you that we lack the proper number of tables. I fear that the owner, a...friend of mine, miscalculated the number of guests. So, if you would kindly remain here-"

"Oh, nonsense!" Jasper smiled as he slipped past Oswald. "We'll just ask one of the other people to move!"

Oswald blanched. "You, what?"

Jasper gestured first to himself, then to his sister. "We are the Sinclairs! The faces of the fashion industry! Anyone would be glad to make a little room for us, just for the sake of brightening the room." With a laugh he offered his hand. Opal took it. The two made their way towards the party. Towards the buffet table. The lights. The music.

The abandoned daughter.

Oswald tried to hurry after them, but they were both in peak physical form and, from what he could tell, hadn't consumed a drop of alcohol in hours. He, on the other hand...

"Sir! Madame!" He called after them. "Truly, I'm afraid the party is nearing its climax, anyway. Perhaps you should simply fill your pockets and be on your merry way." Opal and Jasper didn't hear a word. They were too busy searching for some unimportant guest to rob of his/her table. Oswald, sweating bullets from head to foot, finally planted himself in front of them. Their expressions were so similiar that it was almost scary. Annoyance. Indignation. Even...disgust. The type of look a rich merchant might wear if, during his daily walk, a homeless man suddenly spouts his need for spare change.

The sound of glass breaking had Oswald's head turning.

Ruby was standing there. A shattered champagne glass was at her feet, the pieces glittering like diamonds. Her entire posture was wooden, her face frozen in shock. Her mouth was slightly open, her eyes huge. All color had drained from her chinless face.

Oh, no. Oswald turned back to Opal and Jasper. They were eyeing Ruby with curious, slightly nervous expressions. As if to say, _who is this strange girl staring at us?_ Breathing hard, Oswald abandoned them in favor of his date. As the distance between them shrank, he realized that her eyes were filling with tears. "Oh, Ruby." He took her hand. "You don't have to witness this. I will have them leave."

"Who invited them?" Ruby's voice was a husky whisper. She didn't part her eyes from the two siblings.

"I-I do not know." Oswald admitted. "I swear to you, I did not request their presence." Ruby didn't turn to look at him. She just kept staring. Pieces of skin were beginning to ripple against her bones. "I'll send them away."

Oswald stared at her.

Ruby closed her eyes. A couple of tears ran down her face. "I...want to know. If I've been right all these years or not." She swallowed. "This may be my only chance."

Oswald pressed his lips together. For a moment, he was quiet. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. "No matter what happens, we will still be friends. Remember that."

Ruby returned his stare. Gave the ghost of a smile. "Thank you." She squeezed his hand, inhaled deeply, and stepped before the siblings. Oswald watched as she spoke, calmly yet firmly. Jasper and Opal both laughed in her face, then tried to push past her. Ruby grabbed both their arms, stilling them, before repeating her words. The siblings shared a look before sighing and nodding. Still holding onto them, Ruby began to lead the pair back towards the door. Jasper tried to twist his arm free, to no avail. Growling, he turned back to Oswald. His expression was that of a caged animal, devoid of reason in the face of blind rage. "You'll be hearing from my lawyers." He snarled.

Oswald simply replied, "Look at my face. Do I seem intimidated?"

Scoffing, Jasper turned away. Ruby never looked back or slowed her pace. But even from the lengthening distance, Oswald could see her shoulders shaking.

That was when the lights dimmed, and Barbara grabbed the microphone. Oswald felt his emotions sink beneath the ocean of calm. The moment had come.

* * *

The music, lights, and noises faded into the distance. Clapping had erupted since their departure, which could only mean one thing: Oswald's speech was about to commence. Ruby felt immense guilt seep into her like a rain of lead. Not because she was missing it, but because it had drastically lost its importance since...well.

She swallowed so hard it hurt. Looked behind her, where Opal and Jasper were walking side by side. Their noses with raised with indignation, their backs straight as any royal's. Incredible. They had hardly changed since the last time she had seen them...nine years ago. Opal had been heavier, softer. A plus-sized model, in fact. Her skin had been more luminous, her hair resembling silk. But boy, had she done her best to hide it. Her skin had a weird, stretched appearance, as though excess folds had been repeatedly chopped off and the gaps had been sewn shut. Certain parts of her body simply looked...off. Not fully natural. Her hair had clearly been dyed. Her eyes were back to their natural color, it seemed. Once upon a time, she would wear contact lenses of varying colors to show off her flexibility. Now, it seemed her ageing eyes could no longer handle it.

Jasper was no different. His contours spoke of hours spent in the gym and the strictest of diets. The first few liverspots, no larger than fleas, were beginning to appear on his hands. His posture had begun to bend forward like a question mark. There were faint crow's feet near his eyes and lines going down his mouth. His faux tan looked ridiculous, given his hair color: it was a poor imitation of saffron.

They were both getting old. And neither wanted to admit it.

Ruby swallowed hard. "So," she began, "how's the modelling business?"

"I doubt you'd understand, dear," Opal replied, "given your fashion sense. But, in the unlikely chance that you know what I'm talking about, it's going great." She flipped her hair. "According to last week's popularity poll, I'm in the Top Twenties. Lots of people said that I have a beauty that's both exotic and local."

"And of course, my management has helped as well." Jasper piped up. "When I'm not modelling, I'm managing my sister's affairs." He was trying to sound tired, but Ruby heard the smugness behind his words.

Every word that they were saying chipped away at her feeble hope of reconciliation. But she couldn't give up. Not yet. Otherwise, she would live with that doubt until her last day.

She took a deep breath and played her card. "Wow. It sounds like you're both quite successful. Hardly sounds like you would have time for, say, a child."

There was a moment's pause. Cautiously, Ruby grew an eye at the base of her neck. In the dimness, it only looked like a shiny lock of hair. Opal and Jasper shared a nervous glance. It only lasted for a few breaths, but it was there.

"Yes." Opal's tone held a rigidity that it hadn't before. "We really aren't parent material."

"Really?" Ruby said quietly. She turned back at them as the eye sank back under her skin. "Not even if you found available partners as beautiful as you deem yourselves to be? Not even if you considered your love to be perfect, and thus reasoned that the child would be perfect too?"

Jasper cleared his throat. "No. We don't have any children, and we never will."

Ruby stayed quiet for a long time. So much so that Opal and Jasper exchanged curious, slightly anxious glances. Yet they decided not to rock the boat. Rather, they kept their eyes on the path ahead. The corridor that Ruby had taken them down was not the one that they had used. It was built entirely out of glass, from the ceiling to the floor. It was like walking on air, with the entire city just out of reach. Below their feet. Yet far enough to be safe.

Ruby stopped walking. Jasper and Opal did as well, confused. The man cleared his throat before taking a step forward. "Look, Curly Fry. We came a long way, only to be rejected by your pimp, the mayor. You'll all be lucky if we don't complain about it to the Gotham Gazzette. But we're not unreasonable. If you stop dawdling around and show us the fucking exit, then maybe we'll let you off the hook."

For a second, Ruby didn't respond. There were only the angry huffs of Jasper. Then, calmly, she turned to face them. "Don't you recognize me?" Opal frowned, then looked at Jasper. Her brother simply shrugged. In a second, as though gifted with wings instead of feet, Ruby was standing before them. "Have I really changed so much?"

Opal blinked. "What're you talking about?"

Ruby didn't answer. Instead, she nodded. "Yes, I suppose I have changed since our last meeting. I was tied to a wheelchair, being brought to Arkham Asylum. It was nine and a half years ago. March 6th. 6:00 a.m. You," she pointed at Opal, "were wearing scarlet, with a fox-fur scarf around your neck. And you," she gestured to Jasper, "wore a yellow suit, with a purple vest. You had studs in your ears back then."

Jasper and Opal were both still as statues, eyes wide and jaws dropped. Opal was shaking her head in denial while Jasper stared at Ruby as though she were a ghost. Ruby gave a little laugh. "I, on the other hand..." She changed before their eyes. Her hair grew long and lanky, hanging in her eyes. Beneath it, her face bloated like a water balloon, half of her face drooping horribly. Her ears became little more than misshapen scraps of meat. Horrid bruises and sores spread across her body like wildfire. Her fingers became long and crooked, like an old hag's. All muscle mass deflated before their eyes, leaving nothing but disgusting skin covering bare bones. She shrank down to almost half her normal height, the result of a lifetime without sunlight. Her red dress and pink pearls became the soiled rags that they had tossed at her right before locking the door.

But worst of all were her eyes. The scleras darkened to dark red, contrasting the indigo irises.

She looked like a monster. _Their_ monster.

Opal's and Jasper's screams bounced off the glass walls. Drenched in horror and disgust. Recognition was bleeding into their eyes. Opal's knees gave way. Jasper grabbed her by the armpits, hoisting her up, and dragged her towards the exit. Without a second's hesitation he shoved past Ruby. She fell in a slimy pile on the floor. "Get away from us, you freak!" He spat viciously at her as the two of them fled, trying to escape their mistake once again.

Something grabbed them by the ankles. They lunged forward. Fell flat on their bellies, their teeth rattling. Opal and Jasper looked at each other, then down. Another pair of screams tore from their throats. Clasping their ankles in a vice-like grip were four hands. Two were sheathed in red cloth, while the other were bare.

Six feet away, their owner stood in the center of the corridor. In her new, true form.

"I am Ruby Sinclair!" She shouted as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I am your daughter! And _you can't ignore me anymore!_ "


	53. Chapter 52

Chapter 52

With the force of a hundred winds, siblings Opal and Jasper Sinclair were dragged backwards. Towards the thing that they'd spent the last nine years trying to forget. Opal's silver nails splintered as they dug desperately into the glass floor, all for naught. Jasper tried to kick his way out of the hands' grip, but he may as well have been kicking steel.

When they reached the hands' owner, the hands let go. Fused together to form two whips made of flesh. They coiled around the two. With lightning speed they were thrown across the corridor. Slammed against the walls with white-hot pain. Opal stayed down, her hair covering her face. Jasper looked at her helpless state, then turned viciously to Ruby. His expression only angered her more. "Admit it!" She yelled. "I've always just been an _embarrassment_ to you!" She snagged her whips on him again.

Jasper rolled out of dodge. A large fissure appeared where he had once been. Jasper glared at this...thing. Once upon a time, as Opal had grown big with child, he too had been filled with something: hope. He had always been told that what he felt for his sister was disgusting and shameful, but how can something that feels so good be so bad? This child would prove them all wrong. This product of their love would be as flawless as they were. Instead, it had come out blue and misshapen, with the umbilical cord wrapped tightly around its neck. The condition, coupled with the stress of being pushed out, had caused the blood vessels in the eyes to burst. The child had come out with scleras stained red. In a half-hearted gesture of hope and tradition, they had named her after the only gemstone that she had resembled: a ruby.

What they had hoped to be a jewel had only turned out to be a lump of coal. Now, it was a chunk of toxins. Ready to bite.

The whips lashed again, then again. Jasper shrugged off his coat and used it to bat them away. The result was two long strips of dark silk in his hands. He groaned, turned back to Ruby. "I don't want to fight you."

"I wouldn't want to fight me, either." Ruby snarled. In an instant the whips retracted. So did the rest of her limbs. In the time that it took Jasper to blink, Ruby had transformed into a giant bowling ball in red silk. It sped towards him at neck-snapping speed, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. In his desperation, Jasper turned to Opal, removed her jewelry, and threw it at the incoming attacker. The ball shrugged off the projected stones, leapt into the air, and reformed as Ruby. While still afloat, she waved her arm. Bullets made of skin and sinew flew straight at him. Jasper jumped out of the way. One bullet grazed his hip.

The pain fueled his anger. Once Ruby got close enough, he swung his leg. His foot hit her in the cheek, sending her backwards. Still seeing red, he followed her, landing as many punches and kicks as he could. The more blood that warmed his knuckles, the more flesh he felt break, the more excited he felt. At last, with one final punch in the nose, he sent Ruby falling flat on her back. Panting, Jasper wiped his brow. Ruby tried to get up, coughing, when he planted his foot on her chest. Pinning her down. "Give. Up." He growled. "You can't beat me."

Ruby glared up at him. "I. Don't. _Care!_ " With an inhuman scream she threw her head back. The skin on her neck and chest turned to bubbling clay, ensnaring Jasper's foot. More gushed forward. Jasper flew upwards, trapped in tentacles. He lashed and fought, even biting into the tentacles. Ruby cried out. The tentacles loosened their grip, if only for a second. It was enough. Jasper fought free and lunged at Ruby, using gravity to his advantage. The tentacles fought him off, ripping the very air in two. But Jasper still slammed his head into Ruby's. She stumbled backwards. Growled. Jasper watched with amazement as the wounds that he'd inflicted sank beneath the surface like stones in water. Within ten seconds, Ruby was good as new.

Opal came up behind her. Wrapped her arms around her neck. "Stay away from him!" She yelled. "Let him go!" Ruby's pupils shrank. Without even blinking Ruby melted, slid beneath Opal's feet, and grabbed her throat. Lifted her off the ground.

"No!" Jasper shouted. Opal croaked.

"SHUT UP!" Ruby shook Opal like a rag doll. "Both of you!" She turned first to her, then to Jasper. "I won't let you two just stand there," she grabbed him, "and remind me of everything I _hate_ about myself!" Then, she threw both of the siblings against the wall. Its glass surface cracked. Both adults felt the lights rush out of them.

As black dots danced in their vision, a shadow fell over them. Opal curled up against Jasper. He wrapped an arm around her. Ruby stood before them. With tears in her angry eyes. Breathing heavily, and not just from fatigue.

The two siblings stared up at her in terror. Then, slowly, clarity eased its way into their gazes. They turned to look at each other. Nodded. Without the shadow of hesitation they both jumped to their feet and charged. Fists raised.

Just like the fists clamping around their throats. Pushing them through the cracked glass, out into the night air. Both of them screamed bloody murder as the cold wind lashed at them, as the sheer emptiness of the drop below engulfed them. But neither Jasper nor Opal tried to loosen the hands' grips. They both knew what would happen if they did. Trembling uncontrollably, they looked down. Far below, in a glowing ribbon were racing lights the size of sunflower seeds. Up here, the honks and police sirens were almost out of earshot.

Death had never been more real.

Shaking, nearly crying, they turned to their captor. Framed in a jagged hole of glass, her arms stretched out to thrice their natural length, Ruby was a terrifying image indeed. She stared intently at their faces and saw what she'd been dreading to see for years. Disgust. Fear. Detachment.

These people had created her. Brought her into this world. But they wanted nothing to do with her.

Ruby sighed. It was a long, deep sigh that left her lungs almost empty. "You should've strangled me in my crib." Squeezed her eyes shut. "At least, if I were dead, I wouldn't know how little I mattered to you." Ruby inhaled shakily. "You never even told them." Tears dripped from her chin and splashed on the floor. "You locked me away and never told anyone. Not even your family." Another trembling breath. " _My_ family."

Jasper and Opal shared a look. Then, Opal spoke up. "It's...not too late."

The tremor in her voice betrayed her.

Ruby gave a bitter smile. "I'm afraid it is."

She let go.

Conjoined screams streaked the night with fear, even as their sources grew smaller. Tiny in the face of the reaper. Ruby watched them fall. Dazed. Eyes glazed. Then, slowly, her eyes cleared. Her breath hitched in her throat.

Opal and Jasper screamed as gravity dragged them down. Stinging air tore through their hair and clothes, burning their eyes. The noises of traffic grew louder. The stars grew distant. Their hands found another's, ready to be together in their final moment.

That was when their fall suddenly stopped. Halted. Froze.

Jasper and Opal shared tearful, confused looks. Then, guided by unspoken instict, they looked up. Tentacles, not unlike the ones that had lashed at Jasper, had hooked through their clothes. Keeping them afloat. Then, almost gently, lowered them to the ground. Once they reached the ground, the silbings embraced. Stared up at the retreating tendrils as they returned to their owner above.

It was the last sight that Jasper Sinclair would ever witness.

* * *

Gunshots. Blood on tile. Betrayal. All crumbs for the flocking pigeons disguised as journalists. Flashes shone as the fallen man, a red hood covering his head, kneeled in the spotlight.

Oswald stood on the stage, gasping, as his pale hands travelled across his chest. No pain. No heat. The bullets hadn't been real. But how had Edward known?

Edward. The man he'd been wanting to see all evening, who looked so divine in that shining green suit, stood beside him. Faced the crowd like a true public figure. "The mayor," he planted a hand on Oswald's hunched shoulder, "our mayor vowed that all of the Red Hood would be destroyed, and now we have the real leader caught." Behind his large square glasses, his brown eyes twinkled. "Red-handed." Letting go of Oswald's shoulder, he stepped down from the stage and sprung up before the interloper. He bent over him, hissing something that Oswald couldn't hear, before tearing the mask off. The face beneath it was like a wrecking ball smashing into Oswald's mind.

Butch Gilzean stood before them all, guilty and shameful, his chubby face contorted with conflict.

Oswald couldn't contain the fury in his voice. "I will _kill_ you for this!" With some difficulty he descended from the stage. The excited herd parted for him like ocean waves, all eyes on the delicious scenery. But he didn't care about them. He cared about the man that had taken Oswald's trust and flung it in the wind. "After everything that I've done for you!" Oswald shouted. "I gave you a job-"

"I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING!" Butch's passionate cry resounded throughout the room. Oswald stood there, stunned, as Butch went on. "I used to be somebody in this town. And then you, and that sniveling lil' sunnuva-"

Oswald palm burned into Butch's cheek. Barbara laughed out loud, her hands on her hips.

"Shut up!" Oswald spat down at him. It was only then, in the deafening silence that followed, that he noticed the people staring at him. Judging him. Questioning him. His stomach tied into a knot as he quickly sought a remedy. He hurried back up the steps, going as rapidly as his bad knee would allow. Once before the microphone again, he spoke sincerely for perhaps the first time since running for office. "I am shocked and grieved," he swallowed, "that one of my dearest friends has betrayed me."

Butch glared at him.

Oswald held up a hand, index finger erect in a closed fist. "But let it be known that Oswald Cobblepot will prosecute anyone who threatens Gotham!"

Barbara summoned a bottle of chamapagne from a nearby ice bucket. Raised it high like a trophy. "Hear, hear!" Everyone cheered in response, pleased that the drama was over.

It wasn't.

* * *

Ruby rubbed her eyes, trying to control her breathing, when noises trailed towards her from the party. Shouts. Cries. Unrest. So tangled together that distinguishing them was impossible.

She didn't need further encouragement.

Transforming into little better than a weightless clay blob, Ruby flew straight back the way she'd come. Everything was muffled and blurry. It was to be expected, considering in that moment she lacked eyes and ears. But she knew what she felt. She could feel Oswald's aura calling her to him like a flame beckoning a moth. The pull was just as strong.

At the door she reassumed her shape. Her eyes formed from nothing in previously empty sockets. Just in time to witness Butch tackling Edward Nygma. The slender man fell back-first on the stage. Butch remained standing, lording over his prey. Great strong hands wrapped around Nygma's skinny throat, squeezing. Even from the other side of the chamber, over the yells of panic and breaking glass, Ruby could hear him snarl. "I am gonna enjoy this."

Nygma's hands dropped to his sides, his eyes closing.

"Best. Party. Ever!" Barbara exclaimed, still holding the bottle of champagne. Oswald swiped it out of her manicured hands. Swung it over Butch's head. Glass shattered. Skin broke. The large man fell atop the smaller one, face-down and knocked out. Tabitha, in a gorgeous silver gown, hurried towards the scene. Did she intend to attack Oswald? Defend Butch? Barbara's hands on the darker woman's shoulders kept the answers hidden.

"Ed!" Oswald pushed Butch off him, letting the thug fall unceremoniously onto the floor. His hands seized Nygma's jacket, shaking him, as he stared anxiously into the still face. "Ed? ED!" He looked ready to cry. "Ed!"

Nygma suddenly took a savage breath, his limbs thrashing about as though he'd been underwater. But when he saw Oswald's face, he calmed down. Smiled as Oswald cupped his face, practically crying with relief. He stared down at his chief of staff as though he were the most wonderful gift he could ever receive. Worth more than any piece of gold. Or gem. The crowd cheered enthusiastically at the tender scene.

Ruby, on the other hand, retreated deeper into the shadows. Her heart sinking like a stone.


	54. Chapter 53

Chapter 53

Coughing. Weak attempts to clear one's throat. Burning wood crackling. These were the noises dominating the sitting room.

Edward Nygma sat quietly on the velvet sofa. His green suit had been traded for Oswald's black and gold robe, with ebony silk trousers underneath. But all of the finery in the world could not fully conceal the hideous red markings on his throat. A reminder of Butch Gilzean's anger. Of his mercilessness. His intention to kill.

Ruby still could not believe it, even though Oswald had spoken passionately about it all throughout the return home. As she had driven, her red gloves removed, she had listened silently and tried not to bite her tongue. It all sounded so insane. Butch, the leader of the Red Hood gang? Meaning to kill the new mayor in front of Gotham's most important members, just to make a statement? And Edward had just happened to know what was going on? Had shielded Oswald from harm?

Ruby had missed it. She had more power than the rest of Oswald's men combined, yet she hadn't been there to protect him.

In the kitchen, she kept Oswald company. No longer in a partying mood, even if one removed Butch's betrayal from the equation, she had changed in a gray shirt with a small white gecko on it, with black sweatpants underneath. Oswald, on the other hand, had only loosened up slightly. His bow tie was a bit loosened, and his shoes had been removed, but other than that, he was still achingly handsome. He gently tilted the teapot into the cup. It filled with hot liquid that smelled both sweet and tangy. Ruby recognized the aroma. He had made the same recipe for her some time ago, when her throat had felt like an ashtray.

He looked so calm. Concerned for his friend, yes, but not angry. Somehow, that made it worse.

Ruby swallowed hard. "I'm...sorry, Oz."

The porcelain made a small plic sound as it scraped against the cup's rim. Then, it was set on the marble counter. Oswald turned to her, icy-blue eyes wide with wonder. "Whatever for?"

Ruby blinked, then held her hands out, palms up. "For not protecting you."

Oswald's parted lips pressed together.

"I wasn't there, and I'm sorry." Ruby went on. "If I could go back, I'd undo-"

"Shh." Oswald's finger on her lips cut her off. Ruby's cheeks caught fire at the intimate gesture. When Oswald stepped closer, the reddening in her face only worsened. His eyes were large and gentle, so unlike the cutting orbs of ire that so often scrutinized his foes. Kindly, he pushed some of her freed curls out of her eyes. "Ruby, it was not your fault. You were dealing with old ghosts. I didn't expect you to return right away. Besides, it all turned out in the end." He gave a small smile, his eyes travelling to the world of dreams. "I discovered the true depths of loyalty residing in Edward."

Ruby swallowed. Guilt was a dense chain around her neck. Had she misjudged Edward all this time? From the moment that she'd met him, Ruby had seen nothing but an arrogant, self-indulgent riddler who thought himself a god among dogs. But if Oswald had stuck to the facts, which he was prone to do, then Ruby had gotten the man all wrong. He'd put Oswald's safety above his own, just as he had when he'd found Oswald in the woods. Edward had known what would happen if he'd been caught nursing a criminal, and yet he'd done it anyway. Likewise, he'd stepped between a furious bull of man and Oswald despite the danger that may have befallen him.

Edward had kept Oswald here. Alive. With her. She needed to repay that in some way.

Her hand rested on Oswald's wrist, moving his finger away from her lips. She looked up at him with glassy eyes. Without another word, she trapped him in a tight hug. Oswald automatically responded, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I'll never leave you like that again." Ruby whispered. "Ever."

Oswald, moved, nevertheless replied, "You have your own life, Ruby. I would not have it any other way. You cannot wait on me, hand and foot, for the rest of your life."

"I won't. I just want to keep you safe. If something happened to you, I...I don't know." She took a deep breath. "You're...probably the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Oswald's eyes widened. His words abandoned him in the face of emotion. Ruby rubbed the back of her head, looking bashful but truthful. "True, Master saved my life. It's a debt I'll never be able to repay...but you're the best friend I've ever had. And you helped me finally put this," she held up her hand, which morphed into a claw, "to good use." She dropped her hand. "And...I really care about you."

Oswald's eyes became glassy. Staring intently at Ruby, he ensnared her in another tight hug. They stood like that for a moment, too content to speak. Oswald didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

Coughing emerged from the saloon, breaking the spell. Slowly, the two friends untangled and stepped back. Pushing some hair out of her eyes, Ruby saluted Oswald. "Your patient awaits you, Dr. Penguin." Winking, she began to melt. "See you tomorrow."

"Ruby?"

The melting stopped. Ruby, half-formed, stared at him expectantly.

Oswald gave her a small smile. "I truly enjoyed dancing with you tonight. Would you...care to do it again sometime?"

Ruby blushed. Nodded with a smile. "G'night, Oz." With that, she turned to clay and sprung upwards. Slithering in between the boards, she disappeared upstairs. Within seconds, it was as though she'd never been there at all.

Except for the traces of perfume on Oswald's clothes. And the warmth in his face. Chuckling softly to himself, he collected the tea and limped his way towards the coughing.

The saloon was very welcoming. Pleasant heat, along with the smoky-sweet scent of burning wood, filled the spacious room. The lights and candles had long-since been extinguished, leaving only the fireplace's yellowish glow. Everything looked different in the semi-darkness, yet familiar enough to avoid the presence of fear. It reminded Oswald of the many nights he and Ruby had spent playing board games or watching movies. The memories filled him with a lightness that helped muffle his concern.

Edward looked up as the hot teacup and saucer were held over his nose. With those big eyes and clueless expression, he looked laughably innocent. It was kind of adorable. "It's ginger tea with honey." He sat down next to his Chief of Staff. "It's my mother's remedy for a sore throat." Edward did not say anything, but his expression did. Carefully, he sipped at the tea and winced when it reached his throat. Swallowing again, he massaged his neck. The ugly red welts shone against his pallid skin like bloodstains. Seeing them hurt Oswald like an ice shard to the chest. "Are you sure you don't need a doctor?"

"No, I'm fine." Came the hoarse whisper. Then came another brief cough.

Oswald resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. His friend didn't need to be hassled any more than necessary. "I still don't understand why you didn't tell me what you were doing."

Edward's brown eyes flashed to him. Attentive. Studious. After swallowing the last mouthful of tea, he set the cup down. "Your shock when seeing Butch had to be genuine. The people had to believe it, and they did. And once again, you're the city's hero." He stared at Oswald with a soft, admiring expression. Smiling softly. Oswald, for the second time since returning home, was almost speechless. "You were almost killed." He protested.

"And you saved me. Again." Edward coughed again, hunching over slightly, before facing Oswald again. The contours of his face were outlined by the fire. "I hope you know, Oswald...I would do anything for you."

Oswald stared at Edward.

"You can always count on me." Edward added solemnly.

Beneath the calm surface, a torrent of emotions overcame Oswald. Buzzing up his curved spine. Setting his nerves on fire. Tingling his skin. A magnetic pull dragged him closer to the other man. His arms curled around him in a gentle, warm embrace. It was different from Ruby's hug. Less personal, yet more intimate. Oswald's face broke out in a smile. "Thank you."

Edward patted his back.

The two stayed like that for a while. Even after the fire collapsed into the ashes and hissed into silence.

* * *

Early morning light streamed into the bedroom like liquid gold. Blinding shards cut through the shutters, creating a striped pattern on the hardwood floor. Its presence slowly awakened Ruby before her alarm clock could. Stoically, she reached out and deactivated the clock before it could destroy this peaceful silence. Once the switch had been pushed, she retracted her hand. Staring up at the ceiling. A thousand different emotions rushed through her, intertwining to create a cluster of contradiction. On one hand, last night felt like a fairy tale. On the other, it had been a nightmare that she'd been dreading for years. On one hand, she felt ready to tell Oswald the truth. On the other, the thought made her want to pack her bags and flee to Canada, despite its love for bacon.

Unable to decide, she simply lay there for as long as she could. But when her internal clock's ticking only grew louder, Ruby sighed and rolled out of bed. Today was one of duty. As first deputy mayor, she could hardly start her career by slacking off. Scratching her head, Ruby selected a semi-formal outfit from her closet. It consisted of inky-blue jeans just a size or two larger than her own, a gray turtleneck, and a navy-blue jacket not unlike what a secretary might wear. Though Ruby had never heard of secretaries wearing an acquamarine pendant and blue diamond earrings.

Once bathed and changed, Ruby stared long and hard at herself in the mirror. The same quandry kept returning to torment her. Should she really tell him? Should she not? What if he did not reciprocate her feelings? What if he didn't feel ready to engage in a relationship? From what Oswald had told her, usually while under the effects of after-dinner wine, he had never really had a girlfriend...or a boyfriend, for that matter. He had even confessed that for most of his adolescence, he had been unsure of his own sexuality. Hell, he'd never even been kissed by someone who wasn't his mother.

So could Ruby really win him over? Could her feelings help him overcome a lifetime's worth of insecurities and doubt? She had never faced any of these problems, and thus had no idea what it must have been like. Even during her years locked in her parents' attic, with only a few servants knowing about her existence, she would leaf through books and magazines that had been abandoned in boxes. Ruby had never doubted that she like boys. Then, during her time as the Master's head maid, she had rolled in the grass with more than her fair share of gardeners, male servants, and chimney sweepers (yes, they had had several for hire). In those days, despite wanting a serious, long-term relationship, Ruby had never sought out anything more than flirtatious fun. What was the point, when they all lived in service? When there was the risk of being fired, and thus unable to be near your mate?

With Oswald, the situation was radically different. But what if it was similar enough to render a future with him impossible?

Ruby's eye caught a flash of color. On her desk. Turning toward it, she spotted something new sitting amongst her gems and tools. She smiled. Picked it up and held it to the light.

It was the photo that had been taken last night. In it, Ruby and Oswald were smirking at the camera while wrapping their arms on the other's shoulders. This frozen moment, so perfect, stirred something in Ruby's heart. Her fingers caught something damp behind the photo. Curiously, she turned it around. Neat calligraphy spread across the back.

 _Good morning! I hope you will find this as Morpheus releases you from his tempting embrace. I discovered this photo in my jacket's inner pocket and did not wish to deprive you of last night's memory. Don't worry; I already have that image stamped in my mind. It was that special to me._

 _-Oswald_

Ruby smiled. Slowly, she turned the photo back. Then, without tearing her eyes away from it, she extracted a strip of tape and stuck it to the wall.

Of course, everything would be alright. Oswald was her best friend, first and foremost. Even if things didn't work out...but what if they did?

As a surge of optimism rushed through her, Ruby began to melt. Destination: one of living rooms, where she could sense Oswald was breaking his fast.

* * *

The living room was drenched in gold. Dust particles burned as they danced. Birdsong streamed through the glass, sweetening the air. The table had already been set. On it sat coffee, tea, orange juice, scones, buttered toast, three different boxes of cereal, a variety of fruit, muffins pudding, eggs, bacon, yams, jams, marmalades, bacon, grits, and oatmeal. Each dish burst with flavor, each beverage begging to be savored.

Oswald intended to do just that. His body needed nourishment as much as his spirit.

"What a beautiful morning!" He cheered as he sat down. "Sun is shining, birds are singing..." He leaned his head back, sighing with satisfaction. "They say that fortune favors the brave." Pensively, he muttered to himself before turning to the newest maid. A large woman with excessive make-up and no grasp of the English language, she was the perfect servant for a criminal. Still, out of desire for conversation, he asked her, "Do they have that saying in your country, Olga?"

Olga replied in a foreign language as she placed more food on the table.

Oswald chuckled. "I don't know what you're saying."

Olga said something else.

"Eh, it's not important." Oswald said. "What _is_ important is that I have found someone." His heartbeat picking up, he asked himself, "What good is love if it's one-sided?" He turned to Olga. "I have no choice but to confess my feelings to Ed."

" _Da_." Olga said unenthusiastically as she placed a napkin on Oswald's lap. The thin man laughed. "Now that I undeerstand. It means 'yes'! My mother taught me that." Olga just stood there, waiting for her next order. But nothing could deter Oswald's mood. He continued, feeling a warm hand grasping his heart. "She used to tell me, 'life only gives you one true love, Oswald. When you find it, run to it'." Inhaling deeply, he turned back to Olga. "So that is what I am going to do. I'm also going to enroll you in an ESL program. You should really learn the language if you're going to work here."

Olga snorted and walked away as Oswald sipped his tea.

It was only then that Ruby emerged from the shadows. Oswald brightened up, setting down his tea and rising with the help of his cane. "Ruby! I was beginning to worry. Here," he gestured to the empty seat next to his, "I ordered your favorite: blueberry muffins. You'd best eat them before I'm tempted to eat them myself."

Ruby didn't move. She just stared down at her feet. Her uncombed hair covered her eyes, concealing her expression. She was so still, so unresponding, that Oswald felt a chill up his spine. "Ruby?" He repeated in a softer tone.

Ruby sniffed. Looked up. Her indigo eyes, made sea-green by the new day's light, were gleaming with unshed tears. Oswald quickly hurried towards her, all thoughts of breakfast disappearing. "Ruby, what's the matter?" He reached for her hand. It ducked out of his reach. Confused, he looked up at her. She sniffed again. "It's...it's nothing. I just...had a nightmare. What with my parents and all."

Oswald frowned. "But I thought you told me that you hadn't killed them."

"I didn't." Despite Ruby's best efforts, a tear ran down her cheek. "But...but it still hurt seeing them."

"I know." Oswald quickly grabbed her hand before it could dart out of range. Ruby winced, as though she'd been seized by a bear trap rather than a loving hand. She quickly pulled her hand free again, stepping back. Shadows fell over her like cobwebs. Hiding her from sight. "I...do you mind if I stay in my room until the driver gets here?"

Oswald nodded. "O-of course." He wanted to say more, but he had no idea what.

Ruby nodded in return. In the time that it took Oswald to blink, she turned to clay and floated upwards, retreating to the attic. Oswald stared after her, confusion and hurt mixing in his chest like vegetables in a broth. His appetite suddenly gone, he rubbed the back of his neck. Sighed. Half-heartedly, he turned the television on. In need of distraction. As the reporter spoke, he crashed in an armchair, exhausted. He mostly ignored the television until something caught his attention.

 _"...the fashion world is all a-tumble due to the unexpected death of world-renowed male model and manager Jasper Sinclair."_

Oswald bolted upwards. Eyes wide. he seized the remote. The volume escalated as a picture of the handsome man took up the entire screen. As Oswald struggled not to shake, he listened closely.

 _"Shortly after leaving the party in celebration of Gotham's new mayor, Oswald Cobblepot, Mr. Sinclair suffered a sudden, fatal heart attack that medics believe is related to shock. A glance at Mr. Sinclair's medical records reveal a use of heroin, cocaine, and other illegal substances in the past ten years, and repeated medical procedures to maintain a youthful appearance may have weakened his heart. But all the doctors agree that it was a great scare that gave the finishing blow. His sister Opal has been repeatedly accosted in search of answers, but the model has closed herself off and commenced her mourning. More on this later."_

Oswald stared at the screen long after Sinclair's death lost the spotlight to one of the countless robberies, murders, and gang-wars unravelling in the city. He stared at the screen, went over the words, and finally understood. He looked up at the ceiling, where he knew Ruby's room to be, and felt sympathy.

If only he'd succeeded in sending them away before Ruby could see them.

* * *

Ruby leaned against the door. She was fairly certain that it was the only thing between her weak knees and the floor. Now free from unwanted observations, the tears streamed freely down her face. Plopped silently on the floorboards. Darkening them. Trying to hold in her gasps, Ruby finally felt herself slip. She hit the floor, feeling nothing. Slowly, but horribly, she felt her heart split in two.

Oswald loved. But he didn't love her.

He loved Edward. A man who'd been here for less than a month. A man who'd abandoned Oswald when he'd needed a friend.

The man who'd saved his life.

Ruby had been here. She had always been here. But all it took was one heroic deed on Edward's part to win Oswald's heart.

She had never stood a chance. Why had she been foolish enough to believe otherwise?

And that touch...God. Oswald had been so worried when he'd seen her, tried to comfort her...somehow, that had made it worse. Feeling that gentle touch, hearing that soft voice, and knowing that it could never be hers...it had been salt poured into an open wound. She'd pulled away as quickly as she could. Ruby was fairly certain that if he'd touched her an instant longer, she may have died from heartbreak.

Ruby covered her face with her hands. The sobs finally took over, wracking her body like a rag doll caught in the wind. Burning her eyes and turning her hands cold. A thousand rivers poured from her eyes. But it wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.


	55. Chapter 54

Chapter 54

Edward poured over the documents, bit by bit, filing everything in its proper place. He created two groups of binders - one black, one white - to distinguish which job the papers concerned. Little by little he moved the chess pieces, seeing the result miles ahead. It was like one great puzzle of dominence, time, and influence, and he was helping Oswald win. He was Oswald's bishop.

A secretary's shadow over his desk revealed just how much time had passed. It had seemed like only a few minutes had gone by since he'd seated himself. Quickly overcoming his surprise, he held out a few envelopes still warm from the printer. "These go directly to the city clerk's office." As the woman tucked them into her pocket, Edward carefully reached forward and took a cardboard box, long and slender. A twisted rope wet with petrol stuck out on one end. The words 'custom-made for YOU' were painted elegantly on the side. "And this," he said, "should be left outside Nicky the Nail's place. Knock twice, light it, and then run." Seeing the lady's stunned expression was almost better than the explosion would have been. "Oo-kay." She said with uncertainty as she carefully took the box. Hurried out of the saloon.

As she passed through the arch, Oswald emerged. With one of his polished walking canes in hand, and dressed in deep blue, he looked as elegant as a lord. The tie he wore was a profound azure, with silver swirls stitched into the design. The shirt was freshly ironed, his black leather shoes gleaming like dark diamonds. His hair was slicked back into characteristic spikes. Sitting on his Adam's apple was the zircon that Ruby had given him, its silver string tightened.

Edward smiled at him as he rose. "Good morning, Mayor Cobblepot."

"Good morning to you, my Chief of Staff." Oswald grinned.

Chuckling, the taller man held out two separate documents in his hands. "These are your schedueles for the day. This covers your duties as mayor, and this as kingpin of the underworld." He wiggled his wrists to indicate which papers he meant. Oswald took them both, icy-blue eyes scanning before looking up at Edward. "You really are settling into your role here, aren't you Ed?"

"And yet I still have so much to learn from you." Edward replied somewhat bashfully, his hands folded in front of him.

Oswald blushed as he looked away. Edward cleared his throat, averting his gaze. For a moment, peculiar silence fell over the two men. It was not tense, necessarily...but odd. Something sat between them, heavy, just waiting to be spoken. Whether it was the same to both would never be known.

Swallowing, Edward broke the silence. "I...came up empty tracking down Butch."

Oswald looked at him. Alert. Curious.

"Somehow, that one-handed ape managed to escape. I suspect he's hiding out with his old crew." When Oswald did not answer right away, Edward tore his gaze away. "I'm sorry for letting you down."

Oswald stared at him. "You have done nothing of the sort! I would be lost without you and Ruby."

Edward winced slightly at the mention of the first deputy mayor, but quickly smiled at the better half of Oswald's words.

Oswald swallowed so hard it hurt. "In fact, um...there is something that I need to tell you. Something very important." Edward turned to his superior, watching and waiting. The criminal kingpin just stood there, looking almost scared, with his mouth opening and closing like a puppet in the wind. As the seconds ticked by without a word being spoken, Edward at last attempted to prompt the shorter man. "What is it, Oswald?"

Oswald hesitated before shaking his head. He gave the Chief of Staff a toothy grin. "You know what? I forget! In and out of my head just like that!" He chuckled nervously. Edward's shoulders dropped slightly as the mayor continued. "Don't you hate it when that happens?"

"That never happens to me." Edward bluntly replied.

"You know what? I believe that." With another awkward chuckle, Oswald buried his nose in the files. "So, uh, where are we off to first?"

"PS 1-34." Edward replied, his tone slipping back into professionalism. "You're touring a school. The press will be there, so we'd better get a move on." He walked past Oswald, who sighed. "Great. I _love_ children." As he followed his employee out of the saloon, he cursed silently and batted himself on the head.

Once they reached the entrance hall, where the front doors yawned open, Oswald paused. Turning back towards the stairs, he filled his lungs with air. "Ruby!" He called. "My dear, we have to get going!"

"Coming!" Ruby's voice sounded rough. Or perhaps it was just the distance.

A second later, a shadow moved within the blackness. It slowly took form, possessing a familiar gait. As it drew nearer to the foggy morning light, it shed its nebulous hues in favor of color. Ruby at last stepped into the light, slipping on a pair of sunglasses as she did so. Oswald grinned at the sight of her. "Ruby, great to see you." Ruby bit her lip. Nodded. Oswald gently placed a hand on her back, ushering her outside. He had done this a thousand times before. But never before had he felt her skin literally crawl beneath his touch. Oswald frowned, then looked at Ruby. She was staring dead ahead, her posture stiff and her expression rigid. Oswald's hand moved from her back to her shoulder. "Ruby," he lowered his tone, "is something wrong?"

"N-no." Ruby swallowed. "Just...sorry. I think I'm coming down with something." She patted her forehead and cheeks as if feeling for a fever.

"Oh," Oswald squeezed her shoulder. "I'm sorry. If you like, you can stay home-"

"No." Ruby swallowed. Still refusing to look at him. "Thanks, but...no. I have responsibilities now, too. I can't just blow the off for a little cold." Her voice, which already sounded as rough as sandpaper, dropped to a whisper. "I can do this. I...need distraction. From the cold." She quickly added.

Oswald sighed, seeing that his friend's mind was set in stone. "Very well. But if you begin to feel seriously ill-"

"I'll tell you. Promise." With some hesitation, Ruby's hand found his. Squeezed quickly before dropping it. As though their shared contact burned. Question marks floated in Oswald's head, but he simply pushed them aside and guided Ruby to the limousine. The young woman hugged herself as they walked, as if cold.

Or...fearful.

* * *

St. Peter's Public School was a fine building indeed. The kind that Ruby would have liked to attend in childhood. It was a great, sprawling structure of marmalade-shaded bricks and shining windows that let the light stream in. Cracks in the ceilings and walls spoke of age and violence, but all in all, it was better than many other institutions. In the back of the school, there was a great playground. A rusting jungle gym stood amongst the slides and swings. Home to hundreds of imagination-filled hours. Ah, the innocence of youth.

The tour trudged on as slowly as a snail on a salt-covered asphalt. Each classroom was filled with bustling activity, thanks in no small part to the photographers and journalists. Oswald posed for more pictures than most models, with Edward and Ruby occasionally joining in. Ruby loved and hated those moments. In those brief flashes, when they both faced the cameras, their arms wrapped around each other, she could almost forget what she'd heard that morning. But then, Oswald would steal a glance at Edward and reality would come barging in again.

Kindergarten, first, and second grade passed by without a hitch. Oswald mostly spoke with the teachers while Edward loitered around, looking at each room, and Ruby eyed the children. A small sting in her heart grew with every new classroom. Looking away, she turned to the only point of the rooms that lacked children: the teacher's desk. An iPod sat amongst the graded papers. Curious, Ruby took one of the headphones and held it to her ear. A simple thrum, probably from an electric guitar, played while a voice sang softly,

 _"Maybe you're better off with him._  
 _I think he's better for you._  
 _I forgot how great it felt to be 'us'._  
 _I jus thought we could be more."_

Ruby froze. The tears that she'd been hiding behind her sunglasses threatened to spill over. But even so, she couldn't stop listening to this song. It was almost comforting that some musically-inclined stranger was able to understand how she felt. The music still ringing in her ear, Ruby turned to look at Oswald. He was, it seemed, asking Edward's opinion on something. The sight of them together hurt more than any sword.

 _"I got jealous over him, I sure did,_  
 _But it's nothing compared to now._  
 _I see a future built out of my own fear,_  
 _And it's all completely wrong._  
 _Is there something I can do?_  
 _Can I please turn back the clock?"_

Oswald felt her gaze and turned. When he saw her, he smiled shyly and raised a hand in greeting. Ruby sighed. Dropped the headphone and returned the salute. A single tear slid out from underneath the dark glass, collected at her chin, and plopped on the polished wood.

* * *

"And this is our third-grade classroom!" The teacher announced happily as she walked through the door. Oswald and his entourage were at her heels, along with the media's lapdogs. Within seconds, photos of the children's artwork were being taken and sent to the newspapers. The place smelled of glue, markers, and paper. A smell of childhood creativity. Ruby, who'd done her best to avoid the journalists, began to wander through the room. Peering down at the children's work and patting their heads when their drawings gleamed with talent. All the while, she tried to keep her hurt hidden. Tried to make the most of this trip, lest she risk crying again. Oswald and Edward remained close to the door, where they could see everything without getting involved. "How many more grades do we have to visit?" Oswald whispered.

"This is a K through 12 building." Edward answered mechanically.

Oswald's eyes bulged. " _12?_ " He echoed in shock. "Well, we don't have to see every single class, do we?"

"Mayor James used to read to the children." The teacher grinned.

 _Oh, hell no!_ Oswald thought. Instead, he said, "Aubrey James is an illiterate man. It's well-documented."

"Perhaps we should move on." Edward quickly piped up. Oswald stopped, his eyes trained on something. His expression growing curious, he pointed. "What's wrong with that boy there?"

At the end of his finger's direction was a young boy sitting alone at a table separate from the main one, where his classmates busily worked. His face was ashen and plump-cheeked. His eyes were sewn to his piece, acting as though the rest of the world didn't exist.

The teacher sighed. "That's Luke. He's new here." She sounded a bit disappointed. In what? In the boy himself? Or the way the other kids may have treated him? Well, it did not matter. With refreshed determination Oswald limped towards the child. Stopping with a squeak of his shoes when a little girl with pigtailed passed him by. He raised his hands to avoid touching her, even by accident. Once she had returned to her seat, Oswald resumed his journey. Before long, he was standing before the sullen-eyed boy. "Hello, Luke. I am Mayor Cobblepot." The boy looked unimpressed. Wow.

Oswald decided to get to the point. "Why aren't you playing with the other children?"

That seemed to get through to Luke a bit. His eyebrows scrunched together. "What if they don't like me?"

Incredible. It was just like talking to himself from over twenty years ago. Well, with a little luck, he could spare this boy some of the heartache he'd experienced first-hand. "Well, how will you know unless you give it a try?" Oswald asked rhetorically. Then, as an afterthought, he leaned forward. His hands found the cool wood. "And if they _don't_ like you," he whispered confidentially, "wait for them to turn their backs and push them down the stairs."

Luke bit his lip, his face filling with a familiar, mischievous joy. Oswald gave him a playful glare. Dropping the gray Crayola marker that he'd been using, the boy got up and scurried towards the crowded table. An approaching Edward eyed the little boy, then gave Oswald a questioning look. Oswald winked at him. "Little guy needed a push, that's all."

From the other side of the room, Ruby chuckled and shook her head.

Edward did the same thing, though for different reasons. Behind his wide glasses, his brown eyes shone like polished sardonyx. "I continue to be in awe of you, Oswald." The mayor stared up at his employee with hopeful eyes. His instinct forced him to act, to speak. He did so, feeling like he was jumping from a skyrise. "Ed?"

Edward turned to look at him.

"There is something I would like to discuss in a more...private setting. Say, dinner at the mansion? Eight o'clock?" Oswald asked, praying that he didn't sound too forward. His heart beat at a million rates per second, the anticipation borderline torture.

The answer was as sweet as mead. "I'll pick us a nice bottle of wine."

Oswald grinned with excitement.

Ruby quickly turned away, rubbing her eyes beneath the shades. "Excuse me." She whispered to the teacher before exiting the room, shoulders squared and eyes lowered.


	56. Chapter 55

Chapter 55

The way home never seemed to end. Edward kept skimming through the files and social media, faithfully chirping news whenever mentions of Oswald cropped up. Oswald, in turn, spoke of his future plans to further win the people's hearts. At one point the annoyed driver inserted his headphones and cranked up the volume to a point that, if one in the backseat strained, they could hear it.

Aside from a few comments here and there, Ruby didn't say anything. She sat opposite of Oswald and Edward, glaring at them through her sunglasses. Then, when the pain continued to spread throughout her body like a cold wind, she turned to the window. The buildings began to fall away, with trees and shrubs sprouting forth in their place. Up above, the sky was a smoky gray. Faint rumbles of thunder appeased her. She had always liked the rain, with the sweet scent of damp earth and the electricity in the air. It was a tiny miracle that begged to be witnessed. It always made her feel a bit better. She needed that today. More than she wanted to admit.

The leather beside her crinkled. Ruby knew who it was without turning around. Her throat closed up like a dam. Oswald's cool hand, still smelling of lemon from this morning, rested on her cheek. "How are you feeling?" He asked softly.

Ruby swallowed. Shrugged a bit.

Oswald hesitated, confused. He had never seen Ruby behave this way. Ever. Even when his father had died, they had turned to each other for comfort. When he had discovered her secret, she had distanced herself from him, true, but only after he'd done it. Even then, she'd suffered through the entire ordeal. But this? She just seemed so...unfeeling. As cold and hard as the diamonds hanging from her ears.

The mayor did not know what was causing this sudden rift, but he wanted it gone. Wanted to see his friend smile again.

An idea came to him. Carefully, he took her hand. Ruby stiffened but didn't pull away. Good sign. "Ruby," he said gently, "would you...like to cook with me this afternoon?"

Ruby turned her head slightly. He could feel her watching him from the corner of her eyes. Uncertain. Oswald continued. "We haven't cooked together in a while. Not since the election. That could be fun, don't you think?" Probing his brain for more, he added, "We can play music, too. Owl City, your favorite band. Or Florence and the Machine." He could feel Ruby blink slowly, like a surprised frog. "You hate playing music when you work. It distracts you, remember?" Her voice still sounded so coarse, as though she'd spent the morning gargling bleach. But he could nevertheless recognize his friend in that rough tone.

"But you love it." Oswald replied. "So...what do you think?"

Ruby stared at him for a long moment, seeing this gesture for what it was: an attempt at rekindlement. He may not have known the reason behind her sorrow, but he did want to cheer her up. Oswald was so clueless. He could also be the most manipulative, two-faced serpent under the sun. But she'd known him for nineteen months, and had even shared a body with him. Ruby knew when he was trying to play the emotional cards. And right now, there was nothing but honestly good intentions in his mind.

This would not fix things by any means. But the fact that he cared enough to try sparked something in Ruby's chest.

Slowly, she nodded.

Oswald lit up. "Excellent!" He chuckled with relief, running a hand through his gelled hair. Sensing a softening in his friend's emotional walls, he proceeded to ask, "Those children were...something, were they not?"

"Yes." Ruby answered softly.

"That Luke boy will go far if he heeds my advice." Oswald chuckled. "It is exactly the sort of advice I wish to impart on my own son someday." His eyes adopted a far-off look, dreamy and hopeful. "I would hope that he inherits blonde, curly hair, like my mother. And, perhaps, the brown eyes of my father." He smiled softly. "In that way, I could see a part of them living on in him."

Ruby swallowed hard. "What would you call him?"

Oswald snickered. "Nothing as old-fashioned as my name, I assure you. My classmates had enough ammunition to last for, well, my entire scholastic career. I would like something common enough, but not enough that he wouldn't feel special."

Ruby waited patiently.

"Mason, to represent his forging our name into the future." Oswald mused. "Or perhaps Micah, which means 'who is like God?'" He chuckled. "The answer, of course, would be found in our family tree." Ruby simply nodded, a tiny smile on her face. Encouraged, Oswald asked her, "Have you ever considered having children?"

The smile disappeared. "No." Oswald felt as though a door had been closed. Shutting him out. Recognizing all too well the need for privacy, he turned away. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to upset you." Ruby was silent for a while, her expression impassive. Then, with a deep breath, she spoke. "I can't have kids."

Oswald turned to her in surprise. "What? But you're only twenty-seven!"

"For a normal woman, sure, there'd be plenty of time." Ruby replied evenly. "But biologically, I'm not exactly what you'd call 'normal'." Oswald watched her, listening. Ruby's fingers slipped under her sunglasses, rubbing them achingly. "I'm a product of incest, Oz. I carry the same gene that nearly cost me my life. And since _both_ my parents carried it, I have twice as much. I don't want to pass it on to a child. Besides," she inhaled, "Dr. Strange's cure didn't involve child-bearing. His research pinned everything on me surviving, nothing else. I asked him about it, but he said no. My DNA's been completely altered by the formula. He doubted I could even get pregnant. And even if I could, he said taking care of a baby would put too much stress on my body." She arched a brow at him. "I don't know if you've ever noticed, but I don't suddenly get cranky and weak every twenty-eight days."

Oswald felt embarrassed. In truth, he had never noticed.

Ruby shrugged again. "It's just as well. I...I don't know the first thing about being a parent."

"And I do?" Oswald chuckled before growing serious again. "Ruby, I hardly agree. I think you'd be a wonderful mother. You're kind, sweet, and the most nurturing person I know."

Ruby's throat clogged up. She crossed her arms.

Oswald peered closer at her. "Is that why you were so uncomfortable at the school today?"

Ruby bit her lip. Not looking at him. "Maybe."

Oswald squeezed her hand. Guilt swelled in him like a burn wound. "I'm sorry. I never would have asked for your presence, had I known."

Ruby nodded. "I know."

Oswald paused, then asked. "Speaking in completely hypothetical terms...if you could have a child, what would you call it?"

The question took Ruby by surprise. She stared at him for a long moment, stunned, before looking down at her lap. Her fingers drummed nervously against each other. Each one was laden with rings. Iolite. Crystal. Alexandrite. Colorful, polished stones intertwined in thought before at last separating. Ruby spoke softly, almost in a whisper. "If it were a boy...Topaz. It's a stone that supposedly grants the wearer increased strength...and invisibility. It's good to be invisible sometimes." She added when she saw Oswald's perplexed expression. "Especially if you're in service. The less attention you draw to yourself, the better."

Oswald nodded. "And, if it were a girl?"

Ruby gave a sad smile. "Then...Garnet. It's a stone that represents bravery, self-confidence...and love." She swallowed. "I'd want my kid to have all of those things." She sighed. "But it will never happen."

* * *

Evening fell like a great dark cloak over Van Dahl mansion. As Ruby had suspected, a light rainfall dampened the earth. Every window in the mansion was steamed from the temperature differences and veined with water. The vegetable garden was a muddy patch dotted with green. Above their heads, the rooftop hummed as thousands of raindrops hit it like bullets. As the sky blackened, a dense fog formed just above the ground, blurring the line between sky and earth.

Ruby stared out the window, a bittersweet smile on her face, as Oswald added the finishing touches to the dessert. Well, one of them.

The two friends had spent the last three hours cooking everything from soups to appetizers to sweet finishers. It was hard to believe that everything now loading the table had come from the fridge. Ruby would have found it easier to believe that the gods had delivered these foodstuffs on their doorsteps. The menu included a five-pound pigeon pie, broiled oysters, pepper salad, devilled eggs, spice-rubbed whole chicken, artichoke hearts, crispy tater skins, whitefish, butternut squash, snow cones, lemon cakes, dumplings filled with bean paste, ice cream, and caramelized fruit.

More than once, Ruby popped a stolen bite or two in her mouth. When he thought she wasn't looking, Oswald did the same.

It had been...pleasant, but toned down. Ruby had scarcely said a word, but the silence hadn't been nearly as awkward as it had been earlier. The coldness that had been emanating from her all day had gone to room temperature. But it was still leagues away from the affectionate young woman who would pick him up and spin him around at the end of the day.

Oswald eyed the radio. He had gone through the channels to no avail. If only he could control the radio as well as the city.

"There." Ruby dried her hands with the apron, which she proceeded to remove. Hanging it, she said, "Mind if I go upstairs? I'm kinda tired."

"Now?" Oswald couldn't help feeling crestfallen. He glanced at the grandfather clock standing watch before them. "It's only six o'clock. Wouldn't you like to, perhaps, play a game of checkers?" Trying not to sound too desperate, he gave a little laugh. "I still expect to destroy your winning streak."

Ruby gave a tiny smile. "That _is_ a nice thought. But...no." She quickly turned away. "Good luck for tonight." Oswald opened his mouth to say something. To call after her. Tell her to come back, that he didn't want her to leave. Yet his words failed him. Ruby marched up the stairs, never once looking back. She disappeared into the shadows. A few seconds later, Oswald heard the attic door open with a creak, then close with a slam.

Oswald sighed. Then, with a heavy heart, he retreated to his own room. Everything had to be perfect tonight. He could not risk getting distracted.

* * *

The night was still weeping as Edward scoured the wine section. He was not sure whether to pick red or white: the former gets you drunk faster, but the latter could only be coupled with a few choicy foods. After a moment, he decided to grab both.

But which both?

Edward sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Eyed his watch. Seven-thirty. It was late, but too be expected. When you do paperwork regarding two different fields of business, the hours pass by like seconds. But really, he would have liked a little extra time. His tired brain could not form a logical choice, and the store's soft music caused only a distraction.

Indeed, this music reminded him of something. A different time. A different feeling, and a different man who had hosted it.

It reminded him of love from another life. And its effect on his brain was growing like a cancer.

Trying to block it out, Edward concentrated on the two bottles in his hands. But a soft female voice disrupted his thinking. "Hard to pick the perfect bottle, isn't it?"

Well, at least it was a reasonable question. Returning the bottles to their dusty wooden shelves, he replied. "Well, it all depends on the region and the vintage." Then, thinking more deeply about it, he added, "Of course, you must consider the wine pairing." He turned to face the woman..and froze.

He was staring at a woman dressed in a black coat. Her face was heart-shaped, fair, and probably soft as cashmere. Her eyes were large, almond-shaped, and a deep sea-green. Lips full and pink. A cleft chin. Platinum-blonde hair collected in a bun, sharply contrasting her dark brows.

Edward felt...empty. Of anything solid, that is. He felt as though his insides had been scooped out with a cooking utensil, leaving space for a great, cosmic wonder. It felt as though a small galaxy were passing through him, each star and comet representing a compressed moment in his life. Those shining the brightest had been extinguished for so long, on the night that he had lost the love of his life.

"...Ms. Kringle?" The name came out as a rough whisper.

Sea-green eyes widened. "No. Oh, no. My name's Isabella." The woman replied, looking a bit surprised. Quickly devolving into embarressment, she added, "Um, sorry to bother you. I don't usually talk to people. There was just something about you..." She began to retreat when Edward, his heart in his throat, blurted out, "No, no, please."

Isabella slowly turned back around. "There's no need to apologize." Edward said gently. He swallowed. "You just...you remind me of someone that I used to know. A long time ago." He quickly looked away, his face flushing. For an instant, he thought that she would leave. He both desired and despised the idea. Instead, her voice grew closer. "You struggle to regain me when I'm lost. You struggle to obtain me. What am I?"

Edward could not believe it. He could only stare down at that familiar, yet strange face as indescribable feelings churned through him. Never before - not once - had someone given him a riddle. Answered? A few. Ignored? Countless times. But never before had someone offered him a riddle to answer.

Smiling, he answered: "Time."

Isabella grinned.

Edward, never looking away from her, finally spoke. "I'm Edward. Edward Nygma."


	57. Chapter 56

Chapter 56

For several hours after returning home, Ruby went through all of the activities that normally relaxed her. She had a nice, hot bath with candles surrounding the tub. She changed into one of her favorite nightgowns. It was a creamy-white, large and streaming like a tipped-over glass of milk. Her neck was completely covered by the collar, which had little pearls to serve as buttons. At the shoulders, the sleeves were puffy. With the soft, smooth fabric tracing her skin, Ruby crashed on her bed and buried her nose into a book, this time being _Gone Girl_ , while munching on dried fruit. Then, when she began rereading the same paragraph over and over, she put the book down and began to clean up her room.

Ruby had always liked order. It was the way the world should be: everything in its place, everything in functioning order. As a few, feeble stars twinkled in the inky sky, Ruby stripped the bed of its sheets, tossed them in for a twenty-minute wash, then banished the moisture with her hair dryer. Afterwards, she cleaned her windows, put her clothes away, dusted her shelves, and swept her floor. Afterwards, her room was spotless. Impeccable. Just like she wanted to be.

Sighing, Ruby lay back down on her bed. The faint scent of lavender and fabric softener were of some comfort. She stared up at the ceiling, counting the cracks.

 _Stay in the present_ , she kept telling herself. _In the 'here' and 'now'. Don't think about downstairs._

But inevitably, her mind kept slipping down there. Ruby hated it, but found that she couldn't control her curiousity. Had Edward arrived? A glance at the clock confirmed that it was eight-thirty. Yep, definitely. They were probably eating dinner. The dinner that she had helped make...and it would feed him. The thought made her stomach turn. Of course, she had been making the food that had been nourishing Edward Nygma for the better part of a month. But she had used it to her advantage by adding her own personal ingredient to his drinks. Ruby never would have dared do that to Grace or her wretched children, for fear of being caught. Not before meeting Oswald.

Ruby closed her eyes, tried to control her breathing. She had been keeping the tears at bay since returning home and she was **_not_** about to lose the battle now. If she started now, she'd go on all night. Still breathing evenly, she pressed her palms against her closed eyes, forcing the tears back into their ducts.

What were they doing downstairs? Had Oswald told Edward how he felt? Or would he save it for later, hoping that they would both indulge in dessert...of the flesh. The image made Ruby shudder. She would be lying if she'd claim to never have imagined engaging in such acts with Oswald. Indeed, it was perhaps for the better that they hadn't fused in a while. Seeing her most personal wishes would have been worse than peeking into her diary. There were some things that she would not even trust paper with.

But beyond her own feelings on the matter, was Edward really right for Oswald? Ruby didn't care that this issue concerned another man. As long as they could make Oswald happy, Ruby wouldn't bat an eye if they were a man, a woman, a hermaphrodite, or trans. But Edward...he was different. He had strangled his own girlfriend to death after accosting her for months in the hopes of getting a date. Oswald had mentioned Edward 'gifting' poor Ms. Kringle with a cupcake with a live bullet sticking out of it. Had he meant to hurt her all along? Albeit subconsciously? And what if Edward did not return Oswald's feelings, but decided to play along anyway? Acting through Oswald, he could essentially rule Gotham in all but name. Ruby wouldn't have put it past Edward to do such a thing. From what she'd overheard Edward telling Oswald, the bespeckled man had manipulated several Arkham inmates into becoming his lackeys, going so far as to tricking them into supplying him with tools. Just like dogs. Fetch! Good boy! Here's a treat.

The idea sickened Ruby.

Perhaps, just maybe, Edward was capable of feeling love. Maybe he _did_ return Oswald's feelings. But even then, what if he snapped and did to Oswald what he'd done to his former lover?

Simple. Ruby would slaughter him. Slice him right down the middle as though he were an apple. Rip his head off with both hands. Knock him to the ground and claw at his belly until his guts spilled out. She had no qualms about that. Hell, she would not even care if a jail cell awaited her afterwards. If Oswald died, it wasn't like she would have anything left to lose.

But...what if she was completely wrong? What if everything turned out the way Oswald wanted? What if Edward loved him back, and did so openly and honestly?

She knew that the possibility was there. It would be hard not to love Oswald. He was elegant and suave, silver-tongued and quick-witted. He knew when to back down from a fight, only to return for a rematch, harder and stronger. He relied not on his physical strength but his mind, and with it he had triggered a war between the Maronis and the Falcones. Oswald was strategic and logical, and always knew when to forgive and when to punish.

But beyond that...there was more beneath the cold, hardened surface. Ruby had seen it. Felt it, especially when Cobblair existed. He truly loved the ones who were close to him. He was loyal to a fault and generous towards his allies. But even deeper was something...sweet. Tender. As though a piece of his childhood innocence had been locked away, protected by life's hardships, and shone through when it could.

Ruby closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind...when something shimmered within it. Like the silver gleam in a swimming fish, or the splash of hazy color hidden in gasoline. She recognized it for what it was: Oswald's mind, still lightly tied to hers because of their fusing. She focused on it, ignoring everything else. All of a sudden she wasn't in her bedroom anymore, but at the dinner table. The lavish feast was spread out before her, growing cold. An empty spot at the end of the table mocked her. Empty plate, empty goblet, unused utensils. Tears plopped on her own dinner plate, which was littered with bread crusts.

With a gasp Ruby returned to her body. Realizing what she'd seen, she sighed. Seeing Oswald would no doubt hurt. After overhearing his little plan, being in his presence felt like a dozen hot needles were constantly poking at her guts. At her lungs. Her heart. But what kind of selfish harlot would she be if she just left him down there, hungry and crying?

Sighing, she climbed out of bed. Gathered her bathrobe, slipped it on. Then, carefully, she made her way downstairs. Even though she could hear the logs burning and smelled smoke, but nevertheless felt cold. As she descended, Ruby could also smell the faint, cool aroma of untouched food. Her sensitive ears picked up on distant sniffs. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to keep it together, before stepping officially onto the ground floor. "Oswald?" She called. "You down here?" The crying stopped immediately. Ruby rolled her dark blue eyes. "I can feel you crying, dude. No point in hiding it."

There came a profound sigh. Then, with the clack of glass against wood, Oswald emerged. He looked half a drunk and half a god. As always, he was dressed elegantly: black silk pants that she had mended for him just a few days ago, an ebony jacket with dense shoulder pads, and an opening that revealed just a small triangle of pale flesh. Ruby's own skin suddenly felt feverish, but her face was a polished mask. She examined him more closely. He reeked of vodka, and his eyes were pink and puffy. Just for a second, perhaps even less, Ruby felt satisfied by Oswald's suffering.

Guilt rushed over her just as quickly. Softening her voice. "He didn't come, eh?"

Oswald shook his head. "I...I don't understand. I called him seven times."

"Maybe he's stuck in traffic." Ruby offered. "Or maybe his phone's battery died. There are so many possible reasons, I can't even count them all."

Oswald sniffled and wiped his beaky nose. "I know, but..."

He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. Ruby sighed. "Look, it's getting late, and I know you ate light today at lunch. How about we heat some of this food up, watch a movie, and go to bed?" When Oswald did not reply right away, she added. "It's got to be better than sitting here all night."

Oswald stared at her for a long moment before nodding. "Alright."

Ruby nodded back at him. "Go change if you want. I'll heat up a plate for you in the microwave."

Oswald dipped his head. With his cane at hand, he slowly climbed up the steps. Ruby watched him go with a heart as heavy as gilded steel. Mechanically, she set to work, loading a plate of foods that she knew Oswald would enjoy. She stuck them in the microwave and left them there for three minutes, knowing that he liked his food piping hot. In the meantime, she set to work hiding the alcohol. Then, she wrapped up the remaining platters and put them away. By the time Oswald reappeared in the doorway, changed in a deep purple bathrobe, Ruby had placed the warmed dishes on trays before the television. When she saw him, she forced a small smile and gave a little gesture. "Shall we?"

Oswald nodded. A faint smile on his own face. Sitting down on the sofa, he said, "Please, nothing sorrowful. Or dramatic."

"Roger that." Ruby replied as she combed through the DVDs. At last, she found one. Smiling genuinely for the first time all day, she held it up for Oswald to see. "How's this?"

Oswald peered at it, no recognition in his icy-blue eyes. " _Some Like It Hot?_ "

"By Billy Wilder, starring the sex idol Marilyn Monroe." Ruby informed him, wiggling the film seductively.

Oswald eyed it suspiciously. "If there are any explicit scenes, I'm leaving."

"There's one where she makes out with a main character." Ruby supplied. "But nothing explicit, no."

Oswald stared at the cover before shrugging. "Ah, why not? Mayhaps Miss Monroe may teach me a thing or two in the art of seduction." He gestured for Ruby to put it in. She did so, quickly claiming a seat next to Oswald. As they pigged out, the movie unfolded in black and white. The two barely said a word throughout the entire picture. They tapped their toes when a faux funeral home hosted a party complete with dancing girls. They jumped when Spats Colombo had his men gun down a bunch of card-players. They tilted their heads curiously when Monroe first appeared on-screen, in a tight black dress and accompanied by a snazzy musical growl. They laughed when one of the main characters, dressed as a woman, was pinched in the elevator and slapped the man in an outrage. They went 'awww' when the two lovers got together in the end and laughed at the final joke.

It was a fine time. No pressure. No problems. Just them, good food, and a film. As it had once been.

As the credits rolled, Ruby glanced at Oswald. He was curled up around a velvet pillow, a dribble of drool running down his chin. His eyes were closed, his hair disheveled. It was amazing, how sleep changed one's aura. In this moment, had she known nothing about him, Ruby would have thought him vulnerable. Sweet. Innocent.

Somehow, that hurt more.

Not too long ago, she would have grabbed a blanket and curled up beside him. But things had changed.

Calmly, she removed her bathrobe and draped it over him. Then, she collected the dirty dishes, washed them, and put them away. Without looking back she retreated to her room. As she closed the door, however, a dull whisper tickled her ear.

 _"Ruby."_

She knew all too well who it was.

 _"Thank you."_

She bit her lip.

 _"No problem."_


	58. Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Dawn's light overfilled the rooms, burning through the curtains like fire in a cobweb. Birds awoke in their leafy nests and emitted soft, sleepy songs. Dew sparkled on the wild grasses like diamonds. Squirrels descended from their wooden strongholds in search of food, their beady eyes searching eagerly. It was a lovely morning, far from the hideous corruption of the city. If one ignored the distant honking horns and wailing police sirens, they could almost forget Gotham even existed.

If only.

Ruby sighed through her nostrils as she drank her milky coffee. Her plate sat next to her on the rocking bench. Placing the cup down, she claimed a brownie and took a bite. The fudgey richness quelled her hunger. As she chewed, however, she glanced back through the window. For the first time in ages, she had broken her fast on the front porch rather than the kitchen. Gotham's unending chill made a breakfast outside challenging to say the least, hence Ruby's indigo sweater and leggings. But she didn't mind the cold, no matter how red and numb her ears and nose were getting. Even a blizzard would surpass Oswald right now.

As if on cue, Oswald raised his voice. "I don't _care_ that your hands are tied! I want him found!"

Beneath her black beanie, Ruby's hair began to twist and curl like angry snakes. She did her best to control them, to no avail.

She had woken up feeling no less glum and broken-hearted than the night before. Whoever said that everything betters in the morning obviously never got a taste of real life. Even in the most perfect of mornings, your problems were always there to glare at you the moment you woke up. So it had been with Ruby. Not even polishing her jewels and jotting down some notes could lift her spirits. Thus, she had bathed and dressed on autopilot, choosing only the clothing that suited her mood. The only item that she selected with any passion had been, of course, her gems. An opal necklace graced her collarbone: half a dozen stones, as round and shining as tiny moons, were interconnected by thin ropes of gold. From her ears hung holly blue agate. Yet even those precious stones had barely improved her mood.

Once she'd gone downstairs for breakfast, it had only worsened. Oswald, still dressed in last night's attire, had been pacing back and forth, muttering and shaking his head. He had looked like he was going through every thought in his head and hating each one. When she had half-heartedly asked him about it, he'd said that Edward hadn't come home.

Of course. Edward.

Now, as Ruby tried to eat with some semblance of peace, Oswald was calling the bloody police. Trying to get his wonderful Eddie back. Because God forbid he actually go a full twelve hours without thinking of the prick.

Her appetite officially gone, Ruby put the brownie down. Then, as an afterthought, she seized it again. Finished it in three great bites. These brownies were perfect, deserved to be eaten. She wouldn't let them go stale because of _him_.

A squirrel inched closer, venturous in its hunger. Ruby still, her dark blue eyes trained on it. Pretty little thing, with russet fur and big eyes. Probably a male, given the bone structure. Her stony heart growing tender, Ruby reached down. On her plate, alongside the brownies, were several walnuts. Selecting one, she slowly knelt before the creature. "Hey, lil' guy." She greeted. "You hungry?" The squirrel eyed her with scrutiny. Began to back away.

Ruby softened her voice. "Aw, you can trust ol' Ruby. I won't bite." She chuckled. "Unless you're over six feet tall, wearing outdated glasses, and talk in riddles." The squirrel must have sensed the good intention in her voice, for it moved a bit closer. Ruby stilled until there was no difference between her and the trees flanking the mansion. She watched, heart pounding, as the tiny animal crept towards her outstretched hand. Then, with lightning reflexes it grabbed the nut and stuffed it in its mouth. Ruby retracted her hand, giggling. "Glad someone's having a good breakfast." The squirrel made an odd little clucking sound in reply.

There came the sound of a car door slamming. The squirrel darted back towards its tree. Skirting up its branches as though the Devil himself were giving chase. Ruby sighed. "Well, it was nice while it lasted." She straightened. Brushed herself off just as Edward's shadow fell over her boots. Ruby got a look at him as he approached. He, on the other hand, didn't appear to see her. Or anything, for that matter. He looked worried and, beneath that...happy. Edward was still dressed in the suit that she'd seen him in the day before. Yet it was not rumpled, nor his hair untidy. So he hand't been sleeping around with any lady of the night. So that led to the question...

"Where the hell have you been?" Ruby put her hands on her hips.

Edward stopped in his tracks, noticing her presence for the first time. "Pardon me?"

"Where. Have. You. Been?" Ruby repeated slowly. She gestured to the mansion behind her. "Oswald was up late waiting for your ungrateful rear to get home, without even eating his dinner until I showed up. Where were you, trimming your nosehairs?"

Edward snorted. "For your information, no. I actually met someone." Behind those gigantic glasses, his eyes adopted a dreamy look. "Isabella."

Ruby's eyes widened. Her arms dropped to her sides. Realization sank through her skull, into her brain, as deeply and painfully as liquid lead. Horror split open within her like a rotten egg. She turned back to the house. To the man within, waiting for the man that he'd been planning to profess his love to. Who all of a sudden was in the exact same position as she.

Ruby turned back to Edward and shook her head. "Well, don't tell him that!"

Edward quirked a brow. "Why not?" His tone hardened. "I have as much a right to fall in love as anyone else."

Ruby bit her lip, halted. She could not deny Edward's words. Glancing back, she could imagine Oswald in the house. Pining for a man who'd already given his heart to another. Oh, the irony. She had accepted, albeit with more than a tablespoon of bitterness, that she could not force Oswald to return her feelings. But to see him afflicted with her same curse...well, that was something else entirely.

Ruby sighed. "What's it like between you two?"

Edward's eyes narrowed. "What's it to you?"

"I just want to know." Ruby's voice trembled a bit. "What's it like to share a mutual feeling with someone?" She cleared her throat. "What's it like looking someone in the eyes and knowing they care about you just as much as you do them?"

Edward's hostility melted at her words. Or, at the very least, softened. There was something so achingly honest about her question that he couldn't stay quiet. He spread his hands out, as if there was too much to tell. "It's wonderful." He started. "It's like the deepest fulfillment you can imagine. You feel as though a cup that's been filled with mist until that point is suddenly dripping with wine. Something real and substaintial. It's a feeling that I don't think you can ever forget, no matter how much time passes."

Ruby nodded slowly, trying to take note of it. As well as ignore the pang in her chest. "Sounds wonderful."

"It is." Edward confirmed. Smiling to himself. Wonder mixed with his newfound love. From the moment that he'd met Ruby, he'd thought her a simpleton made special by her powers, and nothing else. The fact that she'd seemed so attached to Oswald had only worsened matters. Deep down, Edward knew that it had been bound to happen. He and Oswald hadn't seen each other in a while, and Edward hadn't exactly showered his friend with kindness during Oswald's visit. But he had hoped against hope that his status as Oswald's best friend hadn't been given away, yet it had.

But until that very moment, he had never cared enough to wonder what Oswald saw in Ruby.

Now, he was starting to see a glimpse of that. And it wasn't as awful as he'd always presumed.

Ruby stepped aside. "Go ahead." She said. "He's probably on the phone right now, trying to file a 'missing person' report." The edge of her mouth curled upward, eyes distant.

Edward gave her a little bow. "Yes. Thank you, First Deputy Mayor."

Ruby blinked. Straightened. Still at a loss for words, she only managed a nod at first. "You're welcome...Chief of Staff."

Edward ran up the porch steps, with Ruby's curious eyes pinned to his back.

* * *

True to Ruby's suspicions, Oswald a tangle of nerves. Edward knew it before he saw the man. He could smell whiffs of alcohol hanging in the air like velvet drapes. He saw a cushion and blanket on the sofa. The entire room had a tenseness to it, as if the walls were holding their breath. In the center of it all, Oswald stood with his back to Edward. "I know one has to wait 24 hours before filing a 'missing person' report, but sir, I am _the mayor_ -"

"Oswald!" Edward called. Dropping the phone Oswald spun around. Dressed finely, yet reeking of alcohol and exhaustion, he stared at his Chief of Staff with huge eyes. Mistaking the look on the shorter man's face for anger, he was quick to speak. "I am so sorry." With a little cry Oswald broke into a short run. Spasms across his visage reflected the pain that it cost him. He unceremoniously crashed into Edward's middle, hugging him tightly. Edward stood there, stunned, when Oswald pulled back. He laughed even though there were tears in his eyes. "When you didn't come home, I assumed the worst." He grabbed the taller man's shoulders and gently shook them. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Edward grinned. "I'm better than 'okay'."

Oswald quirked a brow, his relieved smile still in place.

"I met someone." Edward explained. Those mere three words caused his heart to burst. Unable to stop himself, he blurted out, "I think I'm in love!" He broke into joyous laughter, too immersed in his rose-tinted world to see anything beyond Isabella. Oswald, for example. Whose expression was slowly resembling that of a drowning man.

Ruby watched the scene from the window, her arms folded and her face blank.

* * *

The rest of the morning marched on like an army in swampwater: slowly and messily.

Ruby tried to bury her mind in paperwork, but emotion kept muddying her thoughts. She worked her way through the documents at a third of her normal pace, between glances at Edward. He was as busy as an ant storing crumbs, never breaking away or looking tired. Even when one of the servants brought them both coffee and sugar cubes, he barely touched his. Ruby, on the other hand, kept chewing down sugar cubes in order to expel her inner bitterness. Oswald locked himself in his office - originally his grandfather's. Claiming that he had much to do, he forbade anyone from coming in. As the clock's hands moved, many men went into that office. But very few came out again.

The golden light of morning soon blackened as clouds from the north came knocking. Before long, the wind began to howl just outside the windows. When a servant came back inside with the dried laundry, the doors slammed behind him. The dry noises of dead leaves on stone were constantly in the background, no matter how often Ruby tried to ignore them. They reminded her of an afternoon she'd spent at the zoo with Oswald. All had been going well until they'd visited the reptile exhibit. A snake's dinner, three live frogs, had been tossed in just as the two friends had walked past the cage. Eyes trained on its prey, the serpent had slithered across the dry stones. The noise produced by scales rubbing against rock had been all too similar to this.

Trying to ignore the way the frogs' blood had squirted, Ruby rose. Combed a hand through her curly hair. "I'm going to the kitchen." She informed Edward. "Need anything?"

Edward gave her the quick shadow of a smile. "No, thank you."

Still not used to such courtesy, Ruby nodded and collected her mug. Rinsing it out in the sink, she hung it to dry on the rack. Then, she selected a nice, juicy-looking red apple from the fruit bowl. "If only you could put me to sleep." She muttered against the supple skin. Took a savage bite. As she walked back into the shared office, her eye caught the phone's blinking light. "Someone left a message." Ruby informed Edward.

Edward glanced up. Frowned at the machine as though he didn't recognize it. "Hm. Odd. Most of our patrons and supporters communicate with us via mail and messangers."

Ruby nodded. "Yeah, I know." After a moment, she shrugged. "Ah, probably just some salesman. Don't want it taking up space." Her index finger smashed into a button. A robotic female voice informed them that they had one new message, received last night at midnight.

" _MURDERER!_ "

Edward and Ruby both jumped. Shared a stupefied look as the venomous female voice continued. This time in a quieter tone. "They buried him today. My beloved brother, my lover...he's in the ground, rotting, while you still breathe air!"

Ruby's eyes slowly widened. The red apple slipped from her trembling fingers. Rolled on the marble floor.

The recorded message of Opal Sinclair went on.

" _Everything was going so well. We were both at the height of our careers. We'd been in the business longer than any other model. And now that my stupid husband finally ran off with his harlot, we had the apartment all to ourselves. Then, you just had to come back and ruin it, didn't you? You, filthy little bitch who made me fat and ugly and couldn't even have the decency to come out right. You were disgusting, like a maggot, from the moment you were born from the day we left you at Arkham. That was the happiest day we'd had in eighteen years._

 _But there you were again, at the party. You attacked us, fought us, threw us out the window! Because of you, my brother died of a heart attack. Because of you, now I'm all alone._

 _Ruby, I curse the day you were conceived. You were supposed to be the fruit of our love, perfect as we were. Instead, you are a perversion that took away my greatest treasure. You're no daughter of mine. You never were. And if you ever come near me again, I'll do what I should have done twenty-seven years ago._ "

The message ended with a 'beep'. Ruby wasn't there to hear it. Edward's hand covered his mouth. Behind his glasses, his eyes were wide and tearful.

Ruby pushed past the maids and manservants, keeping her gaze lowered. Barely swerving past the vegetable garden and the rose bushes, she made her way to the crypt. Once she slipped inside, she slammed the door shut and locked it twice. Only then did she let her emotions go. Broken sobs rushed out of her like shards of blue glass, cutting the air to ribbons. She dropped to her knees, her back against the door, as the tears ran down her face. Tears of shock. Tears of pain. Tears of guilt. She covered her wet face with her hands, but her howls only seemed to grow louder. Yet only the dead could hear.

* * *

Lunch.

Oswald and Edward each had a roasted trout drenched in lemon and stuffed with herbs. Ruby's spot was empty. Icy-blue eyes kept gravitating towards it.

"Her...her mother contacted her."

The mayor looked up in surprise, glass of wine in hand, as Edward spoke. He looked hesitant, shy almost. As if revealing a secret. Oswald's throat tightened. "What did that shameless, incestuous dullard have to say?"

Edward repeated the message, word per word. For the first time since the night Miss Kringle died, he wished that he didn't have such an accurate memory. With every word that he recited Oswald's sharp visage grew paler. All he could think about was that news report on television, on his silence on the matter. He had only meant to protect Ruby from the people whom had hurt her so much. He had never expected the woman to actually call her. Then again, Oswald realized that he'd been foolish to think that Ruby would never discover the truth. He blamed himself almost as much as Opal. If only he had sat Ruby down, taken her hands and told her what had happened...perhaps things would have been different. Better. Or maybe not.

When at last Edward finished his report with Ruby's hurried departure, Oswald had had enough. He downed his wine in one sour gulp. Trying to do the same with his culpability. As he set the glass down, two faint spots of color appeared in his cheekbones. Then, he reached forward and seized a small bell. Set in the center so that either diner could reach it, the bell was soon rung. Two maids stepped into the dining room, giving their master a deep curtsey before doing the same for their guest.

"Call Professor Barker." Oswald ordered them. "Tell him we need an urgent meeting. Cobblair has been benched for far too long."

The maids nodded simultaneously before disappearing behind the door. As it swung shut, Edward spoke. "Are you sure training is a good idea?"

Oswald nodded. "Yes, I am. When we form Cobblair, Ruby and I share a mind as well as a body. Through merging, I will have the capability of calming her down and sorting out these misplaced feelings of guilt."

"But what if things go the other way around?" Edward challenged. "What if her guilt brings up yours?" He hesitated, then softened his tone. "I remember how horrible you felt after your mother died. I don't want to see it again."

Oswald, touched, gave him a gentle smile. "Worry not, my friend. I've become stronger since that night in your green-lit apartment. If Ruby's guilt threatens me, I will shake it off. Besides," his voice dropped, "Ruby has been behaving...oddly, lately. Distant. Perhaps some training will help drive out the wedge between us."

Edward dipped his chin in agreement. "Mayhaps. I know little of fusion, only based on what I've seen." He paused and added, "I...never truly apologized for that day I came along."

Oswald blinked.

"I distracted you both, and resulted in your getting hurt. I may as well have stabbed you myself." Edward pushed his glasses up. "I'm sorry. I honestly don't know what came over me."

Oswald nodded. "I understand. But this is partly what we are here for now: to stop looking back, and begin looking forward." Refilling his glass with wine, he raised it. "To new beginnings."

Edward gave a small smile. He raised his own glass of water and repeated his toast, "To new beginnings."

They drank.


	59. Chapter 58

Chapter 58

The laboratory, which had recently relocated to a skyrise following pest control, was in an even more intense state of disarray than usual. Beakers and test tubes were littered across every available surface. There was an out-of-order elevator shaft, with only crossing yellow tape smothering its great black mouth. Blueprints and graphs were taped to the walls. More specimens had been collected, floating dormant in jars. Deformed babies, mostly. One had three eyes; another had four hands, two blossoming from each wrist; another still had its legs fused together like a mermaid's, lacking genitalia.

It was horrific to say the least. Oswald couldn't look away for the life of him.

"Gorgeous, aren't they?" Barker, mistaking the mayor's shock for admiration, stroked on jar with affection. "They're all aborted embryos. To think, the doctors didn't even want to use them in stem cell research! What a waste. Luckily, I talked them in giving them to me. With the correct tactics and patience, I'll be able to find out all about their malformations!"

"Charming." Oswald dryly commented. Quickly straightening his coat, he glanced back. Edward, with his hands folded behind his back, was examining the lab with wide eyes. He was clearly taking mental notes, judging by his expression. Further back, Ruby was leaning against a wall with both arms folded. The sight of her wilted Oswald's spirits. She had barely spoken since he'd announced the unschedueled training sessions. She had just looked at him with blank, bloodshot eyes before getting up and walking off. In the car, she'd had her headphones firmly planted over her ears. Now there was no music pounding in her ears, but she nevertheless looked removed from the picture. A ghost, almost.

Oswald cleared his throat. Hoping against hope that his plan would work.

A metal door screeched open, then slammed shut. Heads turned. Oswald felt his stomach tighten like a fist. Tabitha Galavan, sister to one of his greatest foes, killer of his mother, was strolling towards them like they were old friends meeting for lunch. Clad in her classic, tightskin black leather, she petted the whip curled at her waist. Her long dark hair, pulled up in a high ponytail, swished with every step. When she caught Oswald staring incredulously at her, she smirked. Stopped before the group of men. "Sup?" She tossed her ponytail back.

Oswald turned sharply to Barker. "What the devil is she doing here?"

"'She' has a name." Tabitha quipped darkly.

"Who cares?" Oswald spat at her before reverting his attention to Barker. "Well?"

"You needed an adversary." Barker explained. "And because this was a last-minute meeting, I didn't have the time to prepare a robot. Especially since I'm remodeling them to be less lethal in combat, given the last time you were here."

Oswald winced. Brushed his side with a wary hand. He shook his head. "No, this won't do. Not in the slightest."

Barker held his hands out. "I'm sorry! This was the best I could do."

"What about the homeless crack addicts you used to herd in?" Oswald asked.

"After the ones I brought stopped coming back, no one else would accept my invitation." Professor Barker gave a small cackle. "I even offered them the substances they're addicted to, yet they still declined. That's fear, if I ever saw it."

Oswald scoffed, ready to call off the session altogether, when Ruby's chill voice cut through the air. "Let's just get this over with." All of a sudden she was standing beside the mayor, yet refusing to look at him. Oswald gave her a helpless look, yet her stone-like visage refused to even turn towards him. He sighed. Ruby caught it and spoke, "If you want, I can handle her myself."

Oswald blinked. "You don't want to-?"

"Why would I?" Ruby asked. "I don't need any help, I can take her down alone."

There were no words to describe how hurt Oswald felt in that moment. The only comparable scenario was walking outside, expecting to find a sunny day, only to see dark clouds roaring overhead. Edward must have sensed his friend's pain, for he quickly said, "Ruby, I thought the whole point of these meetings were to strengthen your fusion's-"

"Cobblair." Ruby and Oswald simultaneously said.

"Cobblair," Edward respectfully repeated, "and their abilities. After such an extended period without training, it wouldn't be a good idea to face off Tabitha alone."

Ruby seemed to think about it for a moment, her indigo eyes impossible to read. At last, she shrugged. "Whatever." Moved so that her back faced Oswald. The mayor gave his chief of staff a shocked look. "Why would she listen to you rather than I?"

"You're her boss," Edward winked playfully at him, "it's in the job description for her to ignore you."

Oswald sighed, nevertheless appreciating the joke. Lord knew he needed it. "I'll be sure to edit it, then." He moved towards Ruby, then turned his back. Their spines touched, their hands joined. A glow swallowed them whole, blinding the by-standers. When at last it settled down, a creature stood where two once had. But it was not Cobblair.

Professor Barker frowned, then quickly began to review his mental notes. Edward just crossed his arms, unsure of what to say. Tabitha examined her opponent, wondering if its fighting skills would be as mixed-up as its appearance.

Standing before them was an androgynous figure taller than Oswald, but shorter than Ruby. The similarities with Cobblair ended there. Its curly, thick hair was bizzarely divided: mostly pitch-black on one side, but gray-blonde-brown on the other. Their clothing, too, was split diagonally: one side mimicked Ruby's indigo sweater and black leggings, while the other resembled Oswald's dark blue suit, complete with a sapphire-blue tie cut evenly in half. Ruby's opal necklace sat atop the collarbone, yet the earrings were absent. On each hand, horrifyingly enough, were ten fingers rather than five. Some held heavy rings, while others didn't. The skin was blotchy: mostly peach like Ruby's, but carried patches that called Oswald's pallor to mind.

The face was no less strange. It was still round and chinless, with a beaky nose and large ears. But there was one crucial difference. Instead of two eyes, one indigo, one icy-blue, there were four. Two sets of eyes, one where the eyebrows would normally be. One was clearly Oswald's, right down to the slight almond shape and dark lashes. The other could only be Ruby's: large and round, not to mention bloodshot.

It was everything that Cobblair wasn't. Barker didn't like it, nor what it meant. He was about to speak up when Cobblair turned to him. "C'mon, we're itching for a fight."

Barker shook his head as he stepped forward. "No. You two are not balanced. It could be dangerous."

"For her, maybe." Cobblair nodded at Tabitha. Cracked all twenty of their knuckles.

"Oh, God..." Barker darted towards his desk. Began searching through the drawers. When he found the syringe of interest, he was quick to pocket it. He looked up just in time to see Cobblair standing before Tabitha. "You're a wanted woman, Tabitha Galavan."

Tabitha extracted her whip. "Tell me something I don't know, freakshow."

Cobblair grinned. Their teeth were too many, and too jagged. "We don't want you _alive_." They leapt twenty feet in the air, brushing against the ceiling lamps. Tabitha stood her ground. Still air-born, Cobblair thrust their hand forward. All ten fingers stretched forward like ropes. They fractured the cement where Tabitha had once stood. The fingers shortened as their owner returned to the ground, crouching like a cougar. They turned to see a panting Tabitha rising from the ground.

Not for long. Glaring at Tabitha, Cobblair swung their arm. The skin peeled off like an old orange, slicing through the air. Tabitha lunged right just as the skin-whip sliced through the crate behind her. It was cut cleanly in half like a piece of cheese. Then, its purpose fulfilled, the skin returned to its owner. Slowly wrapped itself back around the exposed muscles and veins. Cobblair admired the work before grinning wickedly at Tabitha. "Oh, yeah. Let's play, whip lady!" They cackled.

Tabitha scowled. Reaching into her belt, she extracted four daggers - one between each finger. "Combat isn't 'play'." She growled.

"Not if you lose." Cobblair agreed. They lunged.

"What's going on?" Edward asked the doctor. "Is...is this behavior normal?"

"No." Barker didn't look away from the horrid spectacle. "Cobblair is a mixture of both Ruby and Oswald, both physically and mentally. Thus, they inherit the most dominent traits of its creators. Yes, like Oswald, they can be competitive, and like Ruby, they are fierce. But I've never seen them act so savagely before." He turned to Edward. His eyes, normally wild with insane thoughts, were lucid with concern. "Has...something happened to them lately?"

Edward frowned. "What do you mean?"

"In a relationship, platonic or otherwise, a bad mood in one can quickly infect another. Particularly if their bond is close. Has one or either of them gotten upset lately? Hurt? Angry?"

Edward gulped. Remembering that recorded message with a chill down his spine. "Unfortunately, yes. Ruby basically just discovered that she caused her father to have a fatal heart attack. And...I don't know." He shook his head. "She's been behaving oddly lately, particularly around Oswald. And...I stopped enjoying it a while ago." He admitted sheepishly.

Barker bit his lip. "That settles it, then. Cobblair can't stay." He quickly reached into his pocket and extracted a horn. Blowing it loudly, he managed to grab the fusion's attention. Albeit the hostile and annoyed kind. When Edward turned to the creature, he gasped. Cobblair had turned their arms into rubber ropes that were currently suspending Tabitha twelve feet into the air. Spikes were running along the skin. Ready to pierce. Cobblair's four eyes narrowed dangerously at the professor. "Fool!" They spat. "Trying to interrupt our battle!"

Barker stepped forward, even though his fists were shaking like leaves. "Listen to me. One of you is not emotionally stable, and it's only going to affect the other. You need to separate. _Now_."

"NO!" Cobblair's leg stretched across the room. Collided with Barker's abdomen. He crashed into the wall with a solid thunk. Before he could hit the ground, however, two many-fingered hands grabbed his shirt. Pulled him up so that he was looking into four eyes. "Let us do our job!" Cobblair shrieked in his face. "You called us here, so we're going to see it through." Roughly dropping Barker, Cobblair spun around. Four daggers flew towards them. Their body split apart like dried Play-Doh, connected by only shiny red veins. The daggers sliced through empty air, penetrating the wall just above Barker's head. Coming together, Cobblair laughed. It was a horrible sound. "You think you're something?!" In a flash they were beside Tabitha. Roughly grabbed her by the ponytail. Lifted the screaming woman into the air.

"YOU-"

They punched her high in the air, then leapt after her.

"AIN'T-"

Joining their hands, Cobblair brought them down on Tabitha's head.

"NOTHING!"

Tabitha crashed into the floor, creating a small crater. Cobblair, still in the air, smirked wickedly at the sight. Slowly descended. Once they reached the ground, calmly and at ease, they approached the fallen warrior. Her ponytail had come undone, her ebony waves curtaining her face. She was panting weakly, her body broken like a porcelain doll's. What a satisfying sight. Cobblair reached down. Grabbed Tabitha by the throat and lifted her up. Peered at her bruised, bleeding face with intense eyes. Two icy-blue, two indigo. Their voice deepened. "This is for my mother." The free hand transformed into a spike. One of flesh, bone, and sinew. But a spike all the same.

"No! Stop!" Barker shouted.

Cobblair thrust. But not in Tabitha. Cobblair's eyes widened to the size of kiwis. Their spike-arm had cut into Gertrude Kapelput. For the first time, Ruby saw her. A large ageing woman, with frizzy blonde hair and watery blue eyes. She wore a faded but elegant gown, with plastic jewel rings on her red-nailed fingers. That dress, so fine. The color of mustard. Now, it was turning red. Gertrude stared down at the murder weapon as though she couldn't quite believe it. Then, she looked up. Her expression was one of the most heartbreaking that either of them had ever seen. 'Why are you doing this to me?' Those eyes begged. 'I am your mother. I love you. I took care of you. Why would you hurt your mother?'

Before either could muster a reply, Gertrude burst into ashes. Blowing away in the dust. Their arm reforming, Cobblair began to hyperventilate. "Was that your?...Mother? Yes, it was. It is my fault she died. Oswald! No!" Their voice kept climbing up and down the octave scale as their members conversed.

"Cobblair!" Barker's reassuring voice cut through the mist. "Breathe! Stay calm!" Cobblair squeezed their eyes shut. Then, opened them. There were no ashes. No Gertrude. Just an unconscious Tabitha lying at their feet. No more wounded than she'd been a minute ago.

"What's-?" Edward shook his head. "Are they hallucinating?"

"Wait." Barker held up a hand. "Let's see if they can calm down." He tried to smile. "They _can_."

Cobblair swallowed. Their past fury and blood-lust forgotten. "Y-yes. I...we..." The mist took over again, shading the world in hues of blue and black. Standing before them, all of a sudden, was Jasper. His face was deathly pale, his eyes bulging and bloody. He was clutching his chest, wheezing, as he lumbered towards them. "Jasper...Dad..." Cobblair's voice grew higher, more feminine. "I-I never meant...okay, maybe I did at first...but then, I didn't want you to die! I-I even saved you and Mom. How could I know you had a weak heart?" But Japer kept walking, his glazed eyes accusing. Cobblair squeezed two of their eyes shut: the indigo ones. "I-I'm sorry! Mom was right. I never should've been...no." The voice deepened. "It's okay. It wasn't your fault." Cobblair shook their head, bending over from the sheer weight of guilt. "I keep telling myself that," the voice grew higher, "but it's no use. It's just _too much!_ "

Jasper, too, turned to ashes. Multiplying, the black flecks flew overhead. Began to form. Twist, break apart, fuse, then swirl. Cobblair watched with huge eyes as at last the ashes took form. It was a man who had touched both of their hearts. Whom they both mourned in their own way. Whom they had both loved.

Elijiah Van Dahl towered over them, his expression grave on a gray face. His suit was black, with a white rose in his breast pocket. Just like what he'd worn in his own coffin. He glared down at them with black, soulless eyes. So unlike the kind eyes that had warmed them both. 'You let me die,' he seemed to say. 'You did this to me.'

Tears poured from all four of Cobblair's eyes. They backed away, horrified, from the vision. "No..." They took several more steps back. "No..." Before their eyes, Elijiah decomposed. Became little more than a gray skeleton. The sight broke both their hearts. "No..." Cobblair took one last step...and felt the temperature drop twenty degrees.

The vision was torn away like a dusty veil. Blinking, they acclimated to reality. Took it all in. The floor beneath them was no more. The light was rushing away like a frightened mouse. The scent of old cement and mold overtook their nostrils.

"COBBLAIR!" Edward and Barker both hurried towards the empty elevator shaft. They bent over it just as the fusion was swallowed by darkness.

Cobblair blinked, falling, before twisting around in the air. Below was nothing but a dark abyss. Terror shot through them like a spear of ice. A scream tore from their throat. At the same time, their body began to glow. Split apart. Oswald cried out as the tunnel met his vision. With every encroaching second, death felt closer. More real. And he was not ready to die. Not by a long shot. "Ruby!" He shouted. "Let's reform Cobblair! We'll climb back up, it will be okay!" He looked up, trying to give his friend a reassuring look. What he saw, instead, prodded at his sentiments.

Ruby was curled up in a ball, her hands covering her eyes. Tears spilled from between her fingers, floating upwards like little jellyfish. "I wish I'd never been born!" She howled.

Oswald's lips pressed together. He reached out, grabbed the hem of Ruby's shirt, and pulled them together. Holding her tightly, he whispered. "It's alright."

"Nothing's alright!" Ruby sobbed. "I-I didn't want to face any of it! I just wanted to be mad! I..." She took a shaky breath. "Everything's just falling apart! I just can't handle it!" She ran both hands through her hair. "I don't want to hurt anymore!"

"Ruby, look at me!" Oswald demanded.

With some hesitation, Ruby obeyed. Her indigo orbs were bloodshot and glassy. Swallowing, Oswald wiped some of her tears away. "Ruby, we're not meant to carry the weight of the world. That's why people have each other. Please. I want to help you." He cracked a tiny smile, trying to break the tension. "But you have to let me."

Ruby stared at him for an impossibly long time. Thousands of different emotions and conflicts ran through her irises. At last, she squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, they had ceased the waterworks. "Okay." She croaked.

Oswald smiled. They both leaned in.

Edward was pacing back and forth, trying in vain to reason with the police. "Twenty minutes?!" He yelled. "They will both be nothing but stains by then!"

"They're not gonna die!" Barker yelled at him. "Not while I live. They're the most fascinating specimens I've studied in years!" He peered back down the black shaft, hollow as a dead man's skull. "It's a long way down. Maybe they're-"

A blinding light erupted what seemed like miles below. Barker gasped, then squealed like a fan girl. "Look!" He pointed frantically at the fading luminescence. "Look, they-they've re-fused!"

"Oh!" Edward hung up. Appeared by Barker's side. As they waited, listening to the increasingly loud metal groans, he turned to the scientist. "I've been meaning to ask. Why do they glow whenever they fuse?"

"Ah, easy." Barker grinned. "The human body is able to generate 11,000 watt hours. When combined, especially in a process this particular, the cells begin to light up. It's like a bunch of dim lightbulbs suddenly doubling: because there are more, there will be more light." He gestured. "Hence, the glowing."

Edward shook his head in amazement. "Incredible."

"Yes." Barker agreed. "But difficult. As you've seen, fusion requires maximum balance from both participants. If one starts losing control, then the other will as well." He sighed. "I simply hope that this helped work out the kinks, as the mayor had hoped."

It was then that the metal noises reached their pinnacle. Both men turned in time to see long limbs, not unlike a spider's leg, rising from the blackness. They sank into the metal as though it were butter, and hoisted themselves up like so many hands on a rock-climbing wall. Attached to them was a figure. It soon came into the light, and both men were relieved to see it. Cobblair, hair now fully black and the clothes a bit more coordinated (they wore Ruby's leggings and shirt, coupled with Oswald's jacket and shoes), emerged from the shadows and into the light. Their head was bowed, their limbs limp. Once they reached the ground level, they collapsed on their knees. The spidery legs sank back into Cobblair's spinal cord, from whence they came. Cobblair sighed with exhaustion, then burst into light once more.

Oswald and Ruby sat side-by-side, both looking as though they hadn't slept in weeks. But as they got up, Ruby shot Oswald a secret smile. He returned it.


	60. Chapter 59

Chapter 59

In the following weeks, a peculiar tranquility fell over the Van Dahl mansion. Ruby's scarred heart learned to beat once again, though it never ceased to sting when Oswald smiled at her, looked at her. Yet it was a pain that she learned to live with, much like her Master's death. She found solace in her work, pleased at the way it served the people. Each day, she read the newspaper and rejoiced at the positive reports. Crime was at an all-time low. The economy was running as smoothly as a well-oiled machine. Jobs were available at anyone willing to ask. It was a marvellous sight indeed.

Slowly, tensions died between Ruby and Oswald. It took time for Ruby to realize that both her love and her loyalty to Oswald could not die; they had to learn to coexist, lest they shatter their host. Bit by bit, the first deputy mayor learned to trust her friend again. They began to take a daily morning stroll in the gardens, when mist still hung over the flowery grounds. In the afternoon, when all the paperwork had been completed and their tasks done, they'd take a coffee or tea in one of the many sitting rooms, discussing lighter subjects. Once or twice, just for fun, Oswald invited Ruby to help him take care of a traitorous employee: someone who'd dealed with their enemies, or blurted out secrets to eager journalists. The two of them would execute the fool together, often as Cobblair, before quickly getting rid of the corpse. As the days began to grow and warm slightly, Ruby could almost look at her friend and not anguish over her unrequieted love.

Training continued, amped up to twice a week to aid Cobblair's path to a more stable condition. With each fusion, Cobblair's form gradually resembled a human. Their hair always remained black and curly, and their height stayed consistent. The extra pair of eyes never reemerged, nor did the hallucinations.

On the other hands, her relationship with the riddle-inclined Chief of Staff improved vastly. She had stopped adding her 'secret ingredient' to his beverages, and he'd almost immediately noticed. Ruby had to bite her lip when he'd claim that his drinks no longer 'tasted right'. Slowly, the two had gotten used to each other. Before long, they were chatting about safe subjects that didn't delve into personal grounds. Isabella was a frequent topic of conversation, and Ruby always ensured that they discussed her in Oswald's absence. Ruby would pry gently into Edward's budding romance, and he'd happily indulge. The only thing that seemed to give him more joy in this relationship was to share it with a willing listener. Soon enough, he began to shower Ruby with trivia and riddles; Ruby, in turn, demonstrated the extent of her powers, catering to the scientist in him.

One morning, as Ruby held a tiger-eye stone to the light, she spotted the mailman sticking something in the box. Arching a brow, she reached out. Her arm extended twelve feet, reached the protruding letter, and grabbed it. As the paper got closer, she held it up for inspection. When she tore open the envelope, a single slip of silvery paper slid out. When Ruby read its contents, her face lit up.

Five minutes later saw her slamming her eager fist on Oswald's door. "Oz!" She yelled. "Ozzy! Oz! Hey, mail call!"

Finally the door swung open. A half-dressed Oswald stood in the frame, his eyebrows scrunched together. "What the bloody hell's gotten into you?!"

For a second Ruby didn't answer. She had seen Oswald shirtless several times at this point. Usually, it had been due to sore muscles making it difficult for the mayor to bathe. Once, when the weather had been favorable, she had broken into his room and dragged him to the riverside, where they'd ended up bathing, throwing mud at each other, and bathing again. But that had been before Ruby realized her true feelings for him. Feeling her cheeks catch fire, she cleared her throat. Held out the envelope as her eyes rolled upward. Too late. She already had that image stamped behind her eyelids. That chest, white as chalk and scrawny no matter how many meals she crammed down Oswald's throat. His ribs were visible with every breath he took, with shiny scars scattered on the otherwise smooth skin. That neck, slender and soft like a swan's, with only the faintest hint of an Adam's apple. His skin was so pallid that Ruby could clearly see his bluish veins swirling beneath.

Her own blood boiling, she kept staring upward as the sound of ripping paper reached her ears. Then, there was a moment's silence. Ruby was about to ask if she should leave when Oswald suddenly laughed excitedly. "I cannot believe it!"

Ruby risked a look. "What?"

In response Oswald, who at this point had partially closed his dress shirt, stepped towards Ruby. "Oh, divine intervention!" Wrapping his arms around her waist, he scooped her up like a child would with a teddy bear. "The Founder's Day dinner!" He began to spin around like a drunken ballerina, holding Ruby all throughout. "I've been invited! Do you realize what this means?!"

For a moment Ruby was lost, and not only because she was being spun around like the wings of a fan. Then, a memory clicked into place. The Founder's Day dinner. An annual dinner for the upper crust to attend, meant to strengthen political bonds and blood ties. Once upon a time, it had been meant primarily to marry off girls from the ruling class to aristocrats and dukes. In exchange, those already powerful families would be granted even greater power and allies. Then, as nobility vanished (officially, at any rate), it had become a glorified meeting for the most influential people of Gotham to discuss the city's problems and solutions. All over a seven-course dinner with enough wine to fill an ocean.

Master had attended those parties for years. In her first three years of employment, Ruby had helped tailor his suits. She had been in charge in sewing diamonds into the cuffs. When one had broken off, she remembered, the Master had told her that she could keep it. Ruby had been so happy that she'd hidden it into her mattress, determined never to lose the token.

First, the father. And now, the son.

Ruby laughed, returning Oswald's embrace. Fully and truly. In that moment, light engulfed their bodies. A second later, Cobblair stood in their place. Dressed in Oswald's partially-buttoned shirt and Ruby's knee-length skirt. Blinking in surprise, they spoke. "Did you mean to...? No. Huh." Their voice kept dropping and rising as their collaborators conversed. They raised their hands, searching for deformities. The pattern of hairs weren't quite right, nor was the color: some were blonde while other were inky and sparse. The hands were a mixture as well: the shape was closer to Oswald's, but they were clean and heavy with rings like Ruby's. Looking in the mirror, Cobblair saw dozens of tiny differences that reminded them that their relationship was not what it once had been. But it was on its way to restoration. Day by day, inching closer.

Cobblair smiled. Light flooded them once more. Ruby and Oswald stood in front of one another, grinning. Oswald, fatigued by the previous movement, panted. "Well," Ruby ran both hands through her curly hair, "that's _one_ way of celebrating."

Oswald nodded, still out of breath. "A rather joyous way."

Ruby blushed. "I'm really glad you were invited, Oz. Really. No one deserves this more than you do."

Oswald looked away bashfully, waving his hand at her. "Oh, hush."

"No, really." After a moment's hesitation, she took the outstretched hand. Ignoring both Oswald's expression and her own bubbling emotion, Ruby squeezed the hand in both of hers. Caressed it. "I...I think you're worth more than all of those so-called bluebloods put together." She swallowed. Tried to look into Oswald's eyes. "You're a treasure, Oz."

Oswald, moved beyond words, could respond in no other way than to pull Ruby into another tight embrace. Ruby gladly returned it, breathing in the sea-brine scent of his cologne and the flowery soap under it. Oswald, in turn, was lightheaded from his friend's scents: jasmine shampoo and vanilla body wash. These were comforting smells for both of them, transporting them back to more carefree, simpler days that had brought so much happiness. If there was any true 'con' about transmuting as Cobblair, then it was the lack of physical contact such as this.

At last, they separated. For a second, neither of them knew what to say. Then, Ruby asked, "When is it? The dinner, I mean?"

Oswald held up the invitation. His eyes bulged. "Tomorrow night." He bolted out of the room, grabbing Ruby's hand in the process. Ruby returned his grip as she ran after him, her head already swirling with ideas.

* * *

Two hours passed, heavy with cloth and bound by thread.

More tailors than Ruby could count made their way into Oswald's selected dressing room, using it for its titular purpose. As she perched on a velvet-clad chair, her jewel box in her hands, the first deputy mayor watched her friend be swathed in silks, velvets, and cottons. All in more colors than she cared to remember. Burly wood. Dark cyan. Indian red. Light coral. Medium orchid. They were all held up for inspection, pressed against Oswald's fair features. Some looked great, others awful; the rest settled in between. Yet none hit the mark for Oswald. Even Ruby's suggestions, fueled by sharing the mayor's mind, could not satisfy him. It was both endearing and irritating.

Finally, after Ruby had gone through half her collection, silently reciting facts and purging imperfections in the stones, Oswald found something. Not just 'something', but a coal-black suit made from the finest linen. As Ruby watched almost hungrily, the tailors measured both the outfit and the man wearing it. After arranging to deliver their payment after the suit's completion, Oswald made specific requests. The shoulders had to be filled to make up for his own hunched ones. The measurements had to be just a little wider than his own, so as to facilitate movement. The sleeves had to be pulled up slightly. It was less like ordering a suit and more like discussing war tactics guarenteed to crush the enemy. In this case, the enemy was anyone who would dare claim that Oswald Cobblepot knew not how to dress.

At last, the tailors left. Oswald stood in front of the mirror, breathing steadily and twitching. Ruby knew what that meant. She came up behind him, meeting his eyes in the reflective glass. "Try not to worry too much, Oz."

Oswald offered her a feeble smile. "I am trying, believe me."

"So," Ruby squeezed his shoulders, "what's with that look in your eyes?"

Oswald stared at her for a long moment, contemplative. He knew that she only wanted to comfort him, but nothing could make him forget her behavior not long ago. The way she had distanced herself from him, the way she'd avoided looking at him...it had made Oswald suffer like little else could. Not knowing the real cause had only made the situation unbearable. Only recently had he begun to feel like he'd gotten his friend back. More than anything, he feared saying or doing something that would shatter all progress they'd made.

But he had to try, lest he lose the habit of confiding in Ruby. That would be just as horrible to his eyes.

"I...would have liked to invite Edward to this party, but..." He sucked in the air through clenched teeth. Ruby bit her lip, looking away. Of course, Edward would be his first choice. Even if the bespeckled man had a woman in his life now, Oswald still pined for him. Ruby, on the other hand, would only be a friend to him. Knowing this fact was one thing; being forcibly reminded was another.

She took a moment to choose her words. "You could still try to ask him to go, as friends."

" _Friends_." Oswald made the word sound so bitter. He sighed, tore his eyes away from the mirror, and all but crashed in the sofa. His hand covered his eyes. He stilled. His entire body seemingly shut off. Ruby began to reach out to him, then hesitating. Deciding that she required aid, she slipped her arms down. Elongating like growing snakes, they slithered out the door. Guided by Ruby's mental blueprint of the house, they twisted down the hall and reached the kitchen. A bit clumsily, they found the fridge. One wrenched open the door while the other sought out a glass.

Edward, who had been reading the newspaper, suddenly glanced up. He watched as the two hands, attached to impossibly long and boneless arms, slowly placed two glasses on the counter. One was filled with gin, the other with Oswald's favorite blood-orange juice. Edward merely quirked a brow before returning to the paper.

A few minutes later, Ruby stood before Oswald. Two glasses sat in her palms. First, she held out the juice under her friend's beaky nose. The nostril twitched at the tangy aroma. Oswald sighed. "I don't suppose I could have something stronger?"

Ruby rolled her eyes. Calling back the blood-orange extract, she offered the gin. Oswald removed his hand from his eyes, looking like a man lost in the desert being offered a bit of shade. Taking the glass from her with a nod of thanks, he straightened. Began to nip delicately at the drink. Good. Ruby recalled last Fourth of July, when Oswald had finished off an entire bottle of champagne by himself. In three gulps, no less. He'd spent most of the remaning evening lying on the carpet and cursing himself. Ruby sat down next to her friend, taking a drink from the juice. She didn't say anything, instead letting Oswald speak. He took his time, instead sipping at the gin like a sparrow in a birdbath.

The silence between them was pregnant with warmth and comfort. The kind where one did not need to speak, and was content to let the quiet roll like an ocean wave. As she drank the orange juice, its sour and almost bitter taste coating her tongue, Ruby turned to her jewels. She ran her fingers over their solid, glassy bodies. Let their colors temporarily blind her. Listened to the satisfying _clack_ 's as they bumped against each other.

At last, Oswald sighed. "When I was a child, I never expected love to hurt this much."

Ruby closed her eyes. The old wounds in her heart tried not to break open. She sighed at their evident failure. "I know how you feel."

Oswald gave a humorless laugh. "My dear, you know that I care about and respect you. But believe me when I say: no, you don't."

Ruby was quiet for a second before speaking. "When you're with Edward, you feel like time's gone still. You want more than anything to hold him close and tell him how you feel, to cherish him and let him see you. I mean, really _see_ you and not just look at you. You feel at home with him like you never have before, even if you were a seven-year-old with all the stuffed animals in the world. You never get tired of his company; even if you two are talking about work or not talking at all, you feel good to just have him there. You see Ed as this amazing treasure that you want to hold onto. Every little thing about him is a wonder."

Ruby swallowed hard. Took a moment to make sure that her eyes were still dry - mostly, at any rate. "So now that he's with someone else, it tears you up inside. Every time you see him, you just scream at yourself for not telling him how you felt when you had the chance. You blame yourself. You know it's too late, that he's happy without you. And every time you see or hear about her, you just want to scream and cry. You can't give up loving him, even though you know that he doesn't love you back, because loving him makes you feel..." she looked down at her hands. They clenched, then reopened like lotus blossoms. "...Human."

Oswald stared at Ruby. He had been staring at her for a while now. Eyes wide, lips parted. The gin glass abandoned, he hugged himself. Feeling like someone had cut open his body and peered into his soul. It was a strange, painful joy.

"That is precisely how I feel." He finally confessed. "But how do you know this? I thought we agreed never to look into each other's secrets as Cobblair."

Ruby chortled. "You're not exactly keeping it a secret, pal." She turned to face him. Hopefully, her eyes didn't look as moist as they felt. "But really, I'm twenty-eight years old. I've had plenty of flings in my life," she cracked a smile, "and plenty of crushes. I even had a crush on Charles, for a time."

Oswald nearly choked on his own saliva. "Charles? You mean... _that_ Charles?"

"Yeah." Ruby nodded. "I thought he was handsome...and then he started talking."

Oswald blinked, then burst into laughter. Ruby did the same. They cackled like hyenas, even as their stomachs began to ache and their eyes grew teary. It was a breath of fresh, springtime air after the dark thunderclouds of rejection. At last, their stomachs' complaints forced them to stop. Wiping his eyes, Oswald nodded. "Indeed, I know. He was fine-looking indeed...until his last moments." He shook his head. "He was not easy to carve. But his sister kept moving, even after I slit her throat."

"I know, it was a mess." Ruby nodded, remembering that night. Their partnership had been born from vengeance and sealed in blood. She recalled how...charmed she had been with Oswald that night. That wild gleam in his eye as he'd stabbed Grace in the neck. How he'd mockingly raised his goblet at her bloody corpse before downing it. How giddy he'd been to reveal to Grace where her children were. That night had truly sparked what stirred in her now.

Ruby took his hand again. Squeezed it. "Oz...I know it's torture, believe me. But all you can try to do is be happy for Edward, and be the great friend I know you are. That's what you'd want if you were with someone, right?"

Oswald gave a dubious nod.

"And see if this Isabella is really the one for him. If she's good enough for him, if they make each other happy. If it's 'meant to be'." Ruby air-quoted the last three words. "If not, fine. Plenty of fish in the sea. But if so..." She gave a helpless shrug. "At least you'll be happy knowing your friend has found love."

Oswald closed his eyes. Dropping his head. For a long moment, Ruby wavered between leaving and staying. As she chose, rising, Oswald's voice reached her. "How will I know?"

She eyed him curiously.

"How will I know if this woman is right for him?" Oswald stared up at her with those pleading, icy-blue orbs.

Ruby felt her heart pinch, as though it were in the grip of an angry crab. "Talk to Ed about her. Better yet, meet her in person and see for yourself."

Oswald nodded slowly, his eyes clouding with thought. "Yes," he murmured, slowly brightening, "that is what I'll do."

Ruby smiled. Not knowing that Oswald would indeed follow her advice...but under vastly different intentions.


	61. Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Night fell. Dinner was served. Edward didn't show. Oswald sat in his chair for the better part of an hour, his chicken breast and mashed potatoes left untouched. Then, he silently rose and retired to his room. Ruby sat at her own seat for a while longer, playing with her tofu chicken, before following her friend's example. As the servants cleared the table, Ruby clomped up the stairs. She could already hear the dense _click_ s and _clack_ s of liquor bottles being placed against glass. Sighing, she glimpsed at her watch. Nine forty-five. Edward had left at five.

When she reached Oswald's door, Ruby stopped. Caught between two choices. She could leave her friend alone to his thoughts, or keep him company. Either she gave him space or show him comfort. Either one could turn out to be the wrong choice. What if he sought solitude? What if he wanted company to avoid drinking himself into a stupor?

With a sigh, Ruby rapped her knuckles against the hardwood door. Her rings - turquoise, emerald, opal - clinked softly like chalices. When there was only a murmured reply, she dared to turn the knob. Peeking through the slender space, she was immediately assaulted by the scent of rum. Quickly plugging her nose, she called out. "Hey, Oz."

"Hello." Oswald's reply rose from amongst the blankets.

Ruby hesitated, ready for an ugly answer. "Do you...want to be alone? I can go if you want." She added quickly.

There was a moment's silence, then a rustle among the fabrics. Oswald sat up, his sihlouette dark against the fireplace's crackling flames. A glass full of brandy sat in his palms like a baby bird. His eyes were almost luminescent, like tiny bolts of blue fire. Around them were deep crescents of worry. And pain. "No." He croaked. "If...if you'll have me, I would enjoy some companionship." Ruby gave a tiny smile. Nodding, she turned to dust. Her particles blew towards the bed, where she reformed into a sitting position. Oswald scoffed, shaking his head at the display. "I shall never get used to that."

"Good." Ruby fingered her pearl necklace. "I want to keep _some_ of my appeal."

"You have enough appeal for more than one lifetime." Oswald told her kindly.

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure." She plucked the glass out of his white fingers. "You've clearly had too much." Her arm stretched out, reached the slightly-open window, and emptied the glass in the night air. A second later, they heard angry shouting coming from below. Sharing a look, the two chuckled behind cupped hands. Ruby crashed back on the mass of pillows and blankets. "So, what now?"

Oswald shrugged.

Ruby knew what that meant: that Oswald intended to mope around until Edward returned home, however long that took. No, that wouldn't do.

She rested her chin in the palm of her hand. "Want to play chess?"

Oswald cocked a brow. "Chess bores you, as I recall."

The first deputy mayor gave her friend a vixen's smile. "But it doesn't bore _you_."

Oswald blinked, then returned the smile. For the next hour, the two of them played meticulously. They hardly shared eye contact, instead focusing on the placement of their pieces. The room was quiet, interrupted only when Oswald rang the bell for a maid. Ten minutes later, the maid returned with hot tea and leftover biscuits from a campaign. Ruby devoured one chocolate-chip cookie after another, getting crumbs all over the Persian carpet, whilst Oswald sipped his tea. He kept the bag in until the hot liquid was almost black, and took no sugar. Ruby, on the other hand, added a generous dallop of honey to hers. Over this after-dinner snack, battle erupted on the chessboard. Oswald won thrice, while Ruby held a solitary victory.

Oswald watched her from across the board, his eyes taking in her nervous chewing and her twitching brows. At last, he spoke. "Can I impart on you some advice?"

Ruby sighed. "Well, considering that your army slaughtered mine, sure. Just as long as it's not a trick."

"I wouldn't need to trick you in this game." Oswald smiled playfully at her. "I know you, my dear. You have a fine mind, but it stumbles when it comes to strategy."

Ruby nodded, albeit reluctantly. He was right. Whenever they formed Cobblair, Oswald was the one concocting a plan while Ruby focused on defence and offense.

"Don't fight here," he pointed to the chessboard, "or against our enemies. But fight everywhere simultaneously...in your mind. Everyone is your friend, everyone is your foe. Every possible scenario is played out. Every possible outcome is given life. In that way, nothing will surprise you because you will have already imagined it occuring." Oswald quirked a mischievous eyebrow. "That is how I won my crown from the Maronis, Falcones, and Fish." A shadow fell across his face for an instant. Ruby recognized it for what it was: a dark memory, diluted with doubt and sadness. He wasn't sitting in front of her anymore. He was back in the woods, back under the moon, standing before a resurrected Fish.

Ruby reached out and covered Oswald's hand with hers. It was clammy and damp, as though he'd just emerged from a cold bath. Oswald stared down at their hands as their fingers gently entwined. "Your hand is warm." He whispered softly. His brow furrowed slightly. "What was the name of that song from those fantasy books you read? 'Hands of a Woman'?"

"'Hands of Gold'." Ruby corrected him. Smiling at the memory, she sang softly, " _For hands of gold are always cold, but a woman's hands are warm._ " Oswald nodded, watching her. Suddenly blushing under his gaze, Ruby removed her hand from his. Quickly rose. "Well, that's what the song says, anyway." She crossed her arms protectively over her chest, looking at the door. "Wow, it's really late. Maybe Ed's home."

"Ruby," Oswald said gently, "have I said something to upset you? Done something?"

Ruby swallowed hard. His only actions that had upset her - rather, unsettled her - had been to be himself. So wonderfully _Oswald_. Calculating and sharp-witted. Yet vulnerable behind his dense armor. The way he'd looked at her just now...it could have almost passed for longing. But Ruby knew better. He was emotionally fragile at the moment, and the alcohol had hardly helped. That was the only explanation possible, and Ruby knew it. But simply seeing that stare, knowing that it wasn't true longing but simply the result of loneliness and heartache, had picked at old wounds until they threatened to bleed again.

She shook her head, trying to smile. "No, of course not. I'm just tired and-"

The faint purring of moving tires reached her ears. Followed by the rapid crunching of overrun cobblestones. Ruby lit up. "He's home!" She darted to the window, pressing her face against the condensed glass. Edward's car (bought with his payment, along with a borrowed sum from Oswald) rolled into the drive-way. The headlights died, and the driver's door opened. Edward's long, thin figure stepped out. But he wasn't alone.

"Is he truly home?" Oswald's voice was close behind her. Too close.

"Uhhh, Oz?" Ruby spun around and seized her friend's arms. "He, uh, looks tired. And so are you. Maybe you should get some sleep, and talk to him tomorrow."

Oswald's jaw set. "If you think that I'm going to let him get away with missing dinner-"

"You won't!" Ruby interrupted. "Catch him by surprise tomorrow morning, when he's drinking coffee. He won't have time to make up an excuse. Okay, Oz? Okay?"

It wasn't okay, and Ruby could see that it wasn't. More than anything, Oswald looked like he wanted to break free of her grip and run down the stairs. But something in him wilted. Faded into the dark weariness caused by drink and pain. Sighing, he nodded. Pulling away from Ruby, he lumbered towards the bed. He crashed face-first into it, and didn't move. Ruby released the air from her lungs. Out of habit, she put the tea tray on the table to be collected in the morning. She put the chessboard, and all of its pieces, back on Oswald's shelf. Then, she turned and reached out. Her arm stretched to the length of a boa. Grabbing the edge of the blanket, puddled at Oswald's bare feet, she pulled. Once Oswald's thin body was covered, Ruby gave a polite bow, left the room, and closed the door behind her.

Silently, she made her way to her own room. Each creak felt like a greeting from old friends. Beyond them, she could hear the howling wind picking up outside. But there was another sound still. Unfamiliar, even alien. Coming from the ground floor. Ruby closed her eyes and strained her ears. Stopped walking so as not to mask the noise that she was attempting to hear. The wet sound of kissing. Clothes being shed. The creaking of a mattress.

Ruby gave a sad smile, feeling both joy and envy towards the Chief of Staff. Then, turning a deaf ear to his bliss, she climbed up the steps.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and cold. Icy winds blew against the mansion, rattling the windows and making the surrounding trees bow. The floorboards were chilled as Ruby's bare feet, toenails painted pearl-shaded, stepped upon them. Yawning and stretching, cracking her neck and popping her knuckles, she headed for the kitchen. Oswald was still sleeping; she could sense it. That was why she had awakened.

As much as she cared for him, Ruby could not deny the uneasiness that last night had caused her. For a brief second, she had honestly thought that he may have kissed her. Under the influence of alcohol and sorrow, he had turned to her for comfort. That had stung her a bit, and she further felt guilty for convincing him to hit the hay. It was rather funny: she, a woman with no family, no name, no wealth, had sent the most powerful man in Gotham to bed with little effort.

Scratching her head, causing more curls to plop over her eyes, Ruby walked through the kitchen's doorway. Stopped.

Edward was hovering over the toaster, paitently waiting for its contents to pop out. Waffles, probably. Since he'd moved in, the household always finished waffles soon after they'd been bought. Edward was dressed in a green velvet robe, but beneath it, his legs and arms were bare. Covered in sparse brown hair, like a threadbare carpet. His hair, normally immaculate, was disheveled and sticking up like Oswald's. There were two spots glowing in his cheeks, and strange red bruises marred his neck.

Ruby smirked. Crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. "From what you've told, Isabella didn't seem like the feisty kind."

Edward jumped like a scared rabbit. Spun around and relaxed when he saw Ruby. The spots in his cheeks intensified. "Oh! Ruby, good morning, I was just-"

"Preparing breakfast for yourself and your lady? Presumably to bring to her while she's still asleep?" Ruby inquired with a fox's smile.

Edward's blush reached his neck, purpling his love bites. "I, er...well, yes." He bit his lip. "Oswald...well, I don't think he likes Isabella very much."

 _That's an understatement_ , Ruby thought. "Why do you say that?" She asked.

"Just a vibe." Edward shrugged. "So I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell him she's here."

Ruby gave a small smile. "I already did."

Edward frowned. "What?"

"Last night, I saw you two coming in. I stopped Oz from looking out the window." She shrugged. "As long as you get Isabella out of here soon, Oz will be none the wiser."

Edward stared at Ruby for a long moment. His eyes were wide behind his specs, his cheeks flushed. The toaster emitted a popping sound, and the scent of waffles quickly flooded the kitchen. He didn't even turn. Ruby shifted under his frog-like gaze. Turned to the fridge where a chocolate pudding awaited. As she took a spoon along with it, Edward finally spoke. "Thank you." Ruby shrugged again. Hopping on the counter, she began to dig in. "No problem." She ate quickly and quietly, leaving Edward to finish preparing his own breakfast. From the corner of her eye, she watched him. He placed two mugs on a tray, as well as a small saucer filled with jelly. He retrieved the toaster's contents - a waffle and two slices of toast - and added them to the tray's gathering. It was only when he'd finished filling two glasses of orange juice that Ruby spoke. "What did it feel like?"

Edward stopped. Turned. "What?"

"To make love with someone, well, that you love." Ruby explained. Setting the empty pudding cup down, she elaborated. "I've rolled in the hay many times, but none of those times were done out of love. Infatuation, sure. Lust, definitely. And a lot of experimentation with my preference." She ran a hand through her hair, eyeing Edward unblinkingly. "I bet your time with Isabella was better than all of my times combined."

Edward chuckled a bit awkwardly. Temporarily abandoning the breakfast tray, he leaned against the counter. "I hardly know about that, but..." He smiled fondly. "Yes. It was wonderful. Marvellous. It was as though our very souls had linked, not merely our bodies."

Ruby gave a wistful smile. "That sounds like heaven on earth." She met his gaze and held it. "But I'd be more careful in the future. I may not be here next time, ready to tuck Oswald in."

"You were here this time," Edward replied, "and that means that I owe you a favor." He held up a finger. "Nygma favors are rare, so I'd advise against wasting them."

Ruby's eyes twinkled. "I'll think of something."

* * *

Morning soon melted into afternoon. Muggy and dark gray. Crows cawed loudly from tree branches. The hidden sun looked like a giant silver coin. Ruby witnessed all of this as she tended to the vegetable garden. Old habits die hard. Oswald, on the other hand, remained in the warm safety of the mansion. He stood before the large mirror of one of the dressing rooms, wishing that he could present his thoughts onto it as well as he could his face. That would help sort out the mess of sentiments currently at work beneath his calm demeanor.

The source of this discord was standing right behind him, helping him into the coal-colored jacket.

"You are going to cut quite the fine figure at the Founder's Dinner tonight." Ed stated warmly, his voice filled with admiration. If only there were more to it than that. Why hadn't Oswald seen it sooner?

"Yes." The mayor agreed as he buttoned the jacket closed. As he transferred his attention to the cuffs, he continued. "Did you know that this dinner has been thrown annually for over two hundred years? It was started by the first families of Gotham, and only the most powerful citizens are invited." He took a deep breath as Ed's only response was a nod. A bloody nod. Desperate for some bait, Oswald leaned in playfully. "It's a shame I don't have a plus one."

"Ah, what are you saying?" Ed gently nudged him. "You'll have Ruby, won't you?"

"Yes, right." Oswald felt a slight flush rise in his cheeks. He thought back on the party celebrating his ascent to mayoral status. Ruby had looked...lovely that evening, in her home-made red dress and pink pearls. And that dance she'd talked him into...it still made its way into his dreams at times. He swallowed hard.

"I can't go anyway. I have a date." Ed informed him happily before turning to the desk. It was littered with silk ties of every color. Oswald allowed an edge of steel in his voice. "With a woman that you claim to be in love with despite only knowing for a couple of days?"

Ed smiled, remembering his little secret. He held up two ties, deciding, whilst Isabella lingered behind his lids. "The heart keeps its own time." That stung more than a red scorpion's tail. Oswald closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing. His tear ducts. But a lifetime of protecting his dignity from bullies' cruelty had proved useful after all. He recovered just in time to feel Ed turning back to him.

Oswald took a deep breath. "Are you sure you aren't mistaking infatuation for love? You did say that she's the spitting image of Kringle." Which, by the way, he still found insanely creepy and unnatural.

Ed let out a dreamy sigh. He looked at Oswald with a dopey, lovesick expression. If only the mayor himself were the object of such a glance. "Isabella's beautiful. And smart. So she has a...passing resemblance to Kristen. It's just the universe telling me that I have a second chance at love." Oswald, in response, gave him an acrid smile.

Oblivious Ed summoned a tie the color of a ripe grape, and held it to Oswald's throat. Examining the result in the polished glass. "I'm partial to the purple."

Oswald gave a weak laugh. "The deep blue brings out my eyes."

Ed simply shrugged, pulling the tie away, as if to say, _'Suit yourself'_.

That small gesture was the straw that broke the camel's back. Slowly, Isabella had eroded his patience. First, she had ruined Oswald and Ed's night. Then, she'd lured Ed back on more dates, on expanded hours together. And now, she was filling up his mind where there had once been interest for Oswald. A fortnight ago, Ed would have insisted on the purple, on being the winner. Now, he just didn't care.

This had to stop, lest things escalate further. Losing Ed would have been the very essence of Hell.

Oswald inhaled. "Where did you say she works?"

"The Main Public Library." Ed chirped obediently, still examining other ties. "Ah, you're right about the blue." Lowering his hand, he gave Oswald an eager smile. Like a schoolboy on the last day of classes. "Do you mind if I skedaddle? I just need to pick up a few things for tonight."

Oswald calmly took the tie. It at least gave his hand something to hold, besides his bleeding heart. "Who am I to stand in the way of love?" He couldn't cage the drops of bitterness that dripped their way into his tone. But Ed, too blinded by his rose-colored glasses, did not notice. Instead, he all but ran out of the dressing room. Leaving Oswald alone with a blossoming plan.


	62. Chapter 61

Chapter 61

The library smelled of mothballs and old paper. It smelled faintly of lemony detergent and wood polisher. It smelled of stale sweat and heavy perfumes being used to cover said sweat. Admist these scents was one of lavender oil. The same that had traced Edward's face this morning.

That could only mean one thing: she was still here.

Oswald straightened. His cane clacked rhythmically against the tile floor as he crossed the hall. Icy-blue eyes scanned the area, searching for platinum hair. Another clue left on Ed's person: right after his little, giggle-framed announcement, he'd quickly shrugged off his coat. There, in the golden light of morning, a single strand of hair had shone near the buttons. When Ed had turned his back, Oswald had pocketed the hair. Memorized it before tossing it in the fire.

No platinum could be found here yet. There were nothing but muted colors as far as the eye could see. Aside from the wan light streaming from the windows, the place was home to dark browns and dull greens. The leather spines of books were faded as they sat on the shelves, forgotten by all. The lamps looked dusty from dissuse, and the armchairs resembled something that could be found in a museum. What few portraits there were, nothing but cheap copies of fine masterpieces, had paled from exposure to light. It was a sad, desolate little place. Just the right location to sniff out a home-wrecker.

At last, a flash of blonde! Like the sun coyly showing its face, only to quickly cower behind a cloud again. Smirking triumphantly, Oswald hurried his pace. Taking a few turns, he followed the bright shadow. As if to encourage him, the scent of lavender grew heavier with every step he took. Before long, he stood in a staff-only area. It was lined with rusting steel cabinets rather than old shelves, and the place smelled of neglect underneath the powerful cleaning products. As a side-note, Oswald decided that he would never bring Ruby here. If she ran out of reading material, he'd buy her a bookshop before sending her here.

Ah, there she was. Seated behind a little desk, nose buried in some documents, was the infamous Isabella. Dressed in a light blue dress with a black turtleneck underneath, Isabella had skin that, annoyingly enough, reminded Oswald of Cobblair's: pale, but with a healthy, peachy hint to it. Her gleaming hair was piled high atop her head in an impeccable bun. Her makeup was simple and modest enough: a touch of eyeliner and a dash of dark pink lipstick. But when the clacking of his cane caused her to look up, he felt a chill down his spine. Indeed, Isabella looked exactly as Kringle had; he had seen enough pictures of the dead woman in the papers to remember her features. This woman...it was as though she'd risen from the grave to steal Ed away. Scary thought. But then again, Oswald had faced dead people before, and he was still standing.

"Oh, Mr. Mayor." Isabella scrambled out from behind her desk. Stood before him with a little bow. "Um, can I help you with something?"

 _Go jump off a cliff_ , Oswald wanted to say. Instead, he forced a smile and said, "Hello. Yes, actually, I believe you can. I am attending the Founder's Dinner this evening, and I wanted to brush up on history of Gotham's first families. My Chief of Staff suggested I come here." Adding just the right amount of mischievous playfulness in his smile, Oswald leaned his head forward. As though they were two schoolgirls sharing a juicy piece of gossip. "I think you might know him."

Isabella actually blushed. "Yes, I know Edward. We just met, but..." She sighed dreamily, wiping the faux smile from Oswald's pale lips. "Well, I feel I've known him my whole life."

Oswald recovered just in time. "How _romantic!_ " He chirped.

"Oh!" Isabella slapped her hands on her cheeks in smiling embarrassment. "Listen to me blathering on...you wanted a book. Um..." Turning away, she began to rummage through her desk's drawers, scanning the papers for an appropriate title. As she searched, Oswald noticed something. Specifically, little paper versions of the harlot and Ed holding hands. How perfectly childish. More than anything he wanted to take those paper people and toss them in the gutter, but of course he couldn't. Still playing the role of friendly mayor, he said, "I'm so glad you appreciate Ed."

Isabella stared at him, perplexed, before her green eyes widened. Spinning around, she made a series of weird gasping sounds as she grabbed the paper people and shoved them in a book. Good. Out of sight, but not out of mind.

Now, it was time. While Isabella was still fluttered and more prone to negative stimuli. And to think, Oswald had maybe intended to cause such a reaction by saying that her first literary suggestion wasn't right! Oh, this was so much better! Trying to keep his excitement at bay, the mayor spoke. "Really, I should thank you for brightening Ed's spirits. He has been so down since he got out of Arkham." He shook his head sadly, as he had in front of the mirror for ten minutes this morning.

Isabella went still. Silent. Slowly, as if walking into a geyser field, she edged towards him. Her hands fluttered against her chest like pale, startled birds. "Edward was in Arkham?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. The fear was beginning to rise within her, a sharp stink susceptible only to true predators. Oswald relished in it, longing for more. He tried, instead, to look stunned and slightly ashamed. "You don't know?" Her blank, cow-like expression answered him.

Oswald gave a slight look of suspicion. "It _was_ front-page news."

"I stick to books." Isabella answered. Swallowing, she asked, "Don't people typically go to Arkham...for murder?"

Oswald inhaled, then lowered his voice. "I make it a policy not to gossip about staff, but..." He mouthed, 'yes'. For a moment, he truly thought that the harlot would faint. All of the color drained from her blank face. Slowly, as if in a trance, she walked towards one of the cabinets. Oswald allowed himself a grin before following the woman. Coming up right behind her, he thrilled at her little jump when she turned. Ah, the fear. It was coming off her in waves now. Delicious. Oswald peered into her face, shaking his head in false amazement. "It's uncanny, how much you look like her."

Isabella looked more than a little uncomfortable at this point.

Oswald pushed a little farhter, unable to resist. "It's that...swan-like neck."

Isabella's hand clasped protectively around it. A hushed gasp rose from her lips. Bingo.

Oswald grinned. "Ed loves a neck!" He laughed beningly, with Isabella nervously joining him. And just like that, the trap had been sprung.

* * *

Ruby stood before the mirror. Her skin was too tight for her. The light above her head was too bright, letting everyone see what was on display. Granted, 'everyone' counted as Barbara, Tabitha, and the tailor. But boy did she still feel scrutinized. Forced into a strappy silver dress, she felt like a candy bar just begging to be unwrapped.

"Hmm." The tailor, Mrs. Sanchez, examined the dress with the utmost seriousness. Like a child with too much Play-Doh, she had spent the last two hours crafting every possible dress for Ruby to wear...and making a mess on the floor. She was a short, stout woman with frizzy gray hair and eyes as round and dark as Oreos. Her outfit was a bizarre mixture of wheat-yellows and pea-greens, with a pair of cherry-red glasses resting admist her curls. She looked like a fashion-obsessed Nanny McPhee, but if anyone in the room had a taste in clothing, it was her.

"You have lovely skin," Mrs. Sanchez said, "much like Miss Kean."

Barbara made a not-so-modest scoff as she sipped at her martini. "See, hon? That kind of flattery will only make me buy from you more!"

Ruby rolled her eyes.

"But unlike Miss Kean, you don't have very flattering hair." Mrs. Sanchez patted Ruby's savage curls. "Is this their natural color, or some hideous dye?"

"Natural." Ruby replied tersely.

"And the haircut? Who did this, some blind man with tweezers?" Mrs. Sanchez rolled her eyes. Ruby tensed. In truth, she had been cutting her own hair for years, often using kitchen scissors for the front and an electric razor for the back. But of course she wasn't going to tell this stingy woman, lest she never hear the end of it. Ignorant to her subject's thoughts, Mrs. Sanchez nodded. "Well, no matter. You look good in soft colors, I find. But best not overdo it, lest you look like an overgrown preeschooler."

"Thanks." Ruby answered coldly. Then, she turned to the two older women. "Why did I ask for your help again?"

"Because I've gone to big events like this," Barbara quipped with a smirk, "while the most you got was the party at the Sirens." She chuckled. "Fabulous, with an awesome finale, but nothing beats the Founder's Dinner. If you dress up like a queen, they'll think you're a peasant trying too hard. If you dress up too casually, then they'll kick you out and give your seat to the clown." She chuckled in her drink. "I'll admit, with the colors you're going for, Ruby, they might think _you're_ the clown."

Ruby faltered. She had chosen very bright colors, everything from pink to pastel-blue. Far brighter than the more subdued tones that she usually wore. But there was nothing 'usual' about this event. She swallowed hard and reached into her nearby handbag. The three other women watched with passive interest until she revealed her discovery: a necklace of rainbow quartz, all jagged spikes of glittering hues. It was both frightening and beautiful.

Ruby watied a beat before speaking. "I need something that matches _this_."

"Why?" Tabitha, who had been flipping through a magazine for most of the encounter, glanced up with passive interest.

The first deputy mayor gave a small smile. She returned the necklace to the bag, determined not to lose it. In truth, she had chosen the rainbow quartz to be her gem of the evening because it symbolized hope and optimism. Hope for her and Oswald, and optimism for their shared career. Hope that both of their hearts, fractured by unrequited love, would find solace. Optimism that their friendship would endure. The rainbow quartz's hard texture (with a rating of 7 on the Mohs hardness scale) would further symbolize that final hope.

But despite their newly-found peace, Ruby could not share this information with the Sirens. They had done too much to her to warrant that sort of trust. Instead, she shrugged. "It just feels right."

"Hmm." Mrs. Sanchez said pensively. "Then, if you're that sure, I'd recommend this new cloth I just got from France. It's silk; very light, very breezy. But I think you'll like it for its nickname 'Mother of Pearl' silk."

Ruby quirked a brow.

* * *

The sun, now a fat red drop of glowing blood, sank further into the horizon. Edward stood nervously by the doorway, eyeing his watch. It was ten minutes to six. Isabella was due to arrive in about two hours. A mixture of excitement and dread churned through him like sludge. He wanted to believe that everything would turn out fine, that he was simply exaggerating, but he could not shake these feelings off. Feelings of terror. Of sorrow. Of repeating past mistakes.

But...no. He had to believe that things would work out. The only alternative would be to go against what came so naturally, to shut his heart off forever, to live out the rest of his days in sombre solitude. All over a fear that may have turned out irrational.

Swallowing hard, he turned around. He peeked through the front door's peephole, waiting for the car to roll in. That way, once Ruby and Oswald had left, then he could begin cooking and, hopefully, drown out his worries with loud radio music. Cooking, along with dissecting, had always soothed him. It was as though he could peel away his problems with the same ease that he could with dead flesh. Oh, if only. Otherwise, his three victims would have granted him a carefree existence.

A loud car horn made itself hear amongst the rose bushes. Edward jumped, torn from his thoughts, and prepared to call for Oswald. His friend, however, beat him to the punch by hurrying down the stairs. Dressed in the fine, coal-black suit that they'd chosen together, Oswald was the very definition of 'refined'. The deep blue tie shone admist the white and black, causing his eyes to shine like polished sapphires. A white rose, just picked from the garden, resided in his breast pocket. His hair, freshly washed, had been stylized in porcupine-like spikes that promised to pierce whomever got too close. He had even added some rouge to his cheeks to render his complexion less anemic. If Oswald hadn't already asked Ruby, Edward knew that the ladies would have set their eyes on him. At least, the ones with less conventional taste.

Oswald smirked at Edward. "I wish you a lovely evening."

"Oh, sure. Thanks." Edward gave his friend a nervous simper. "You, too. Just be sure to fill up on bread. Fancy food tends to be richer than most people are used to."

"I may pocket some, of that I am sure." Oswald reached into his pants' pockets, where his entire hands vanished. "It may not be the classiest way of behaving, but at least I shall have some breakfast on the morrow. I asked Ruby to bring a purse in order to assist me."

Edward chuckled. "I can imagine you two stealing bread together." His smile dimmed as he looked around. "Speaking of which, where _is_ Ruby?"

Oswald turned to look at the grandfather clock just a few feet away. Bit his lip. "Hopefully, ready. I'd rather not be late. I heard that she actually went to Barbara for fashion advice." He shuddered. "Women. A breed beyond our comprehension."

Edward slowly smiled, realizing all too well what it meant. "She probably wants to look good for you."

Oswald scoffed. "Charming thought, Ed. But Ruby and I are just friends. She most likely wanted to ensure that she looked her best for the Founders." His words muffled the hesitant footsteps making their way down. Edward, however, heard them. When his eyes glimpsed past his friend, his smile widened. "Well, I'd say she succeeded."

The mayor turned around. Froze.

Standing on the last step was a stunning young woman in shimmering silk. Her hair, while retaining its natural color, had suddenly grown long enough to be gathered in a simple French braid. Pearls of different sizes had been woven into the curls, making her head gleam whenever it turned. Covering her entire collarbone was an ornate gathering of rainbow quartz. Each piece was long and sharp at the end, like celestial arrows. While mostly white in shade, they harbored glimmers of deep purple, mint-green, and canary-yellow deep in their cores. From her ears hung more of the same gemstone.

But the dress had to be the best part. It was almost medieval in design, with flowing, wing-like sleeves that reached her knees. The collar was V-shaped and plunging, stopping just high enough to keep Ruby's modesty intact. The dress went down to her feet, completely covering them. Like the gems, the fabric was a cauldron of hidden, bright colors. At first, it seemed to be pearl-white in color. But with every crease, every movement, shades of plum and crimson and cerulean burst forth.

Oswald could not speak. Even if he could, he was not sure what he could have said.

Ruby gave a wry smile with lips shiny with gloss. Walking down the final step, she adjust her handbag's strap. "Shall we go?"

Oswald merely nodded, his throat feeling as though he'd swallowed sand, and offered her his arm. Her smile widening, Ruby accepted it.

Edward watched them leave, smiling softly to himself. Wondering how much longer it would take. Then, the clock announced the new hour. Two more, and Isabella would be here. Once again, terror and joy waged battle in his heart.

* * *

The Founder's Dinner. A historical event, attended by only the most powerful and influential living under Gotham's sooty sky. A place where politics were discussed, issues were resolved, and alliances were forged. It was a place that the 'common folk', as the Founders called them, could only speak about in jittery whispers. The upper crusts, in turn, could only scarcely believe in such a godlike status. Until, of course, they recieved news of changed tides.

Tides that would change, in part, because of him. Oswald could hardly stop shaking at the prospect. Ruby, thinking that he'd simply been cold, had quickly wrapped her arms around him. He'd returned the embrace, blushing lightly, but hadn't stopped trembling. Until, of course, those massive doors opened. Great, slabs of bright red cherry-wood engraved with owls. Beyond those black-rimmed eyes was a room that should have existed only in folklore.

In the highest chamber of Gotham's tallest skyrise, so much so that the clouds seemed close enough to touch, was a luxurious, pentagonal chamber. Dark, polished wood made up the floors and walls, giving one the feeling of being within a great tree. The air, too, gave off a faint wooden aroma. Small holes had been carved into the walls; within them resided flickering candles. Above everyone's head was a chandelier constructed by the finest diamonds; ones that made Ruby's look like cheap immitations. In the center of the room was a long table clothed in white. A silver candelabra occupied each third of the (roughly) twenty-foot table, causing the fine china to gleam. Portraits of Gotham's founders hung proudly on the walls overlooking the table. In that way, it felt as though the founders themselves were watching.

Ruby, who hadn't let go of Oswald's arm since they'd left the car (making a mental note to beef up his meals even more), felt ice form within her stomach. She looked up at those faces admist the oils. Cruel, cunning faces peered back down at her, as if knowing what she was. The guests seemed no less hostile. Among them were politicians, heads of noble families, and owners of expansive networks. Amongst them, Ruby felt as out of place as a plucked chicken in a field of peacocks. She would have turned and run had the doors not slammed shut behind them.

Ruby turned to Oswald. He simply shrugged, as if to say, _Just roll with it_. Swallowing hard, she tightened her hold on his arm. He, in turn, covered her hand with his. Feeling a bit more steady, Ruby managed to join the walk towards their seats - each marked with a placement card.

From that point onward, time slipped away like sand in the wind. The meal would be a seven-course onslaught to the senses, each dish richer and more plentiful than the last. Oswald conversed with everyone around him, already making plans to further his popularity with the people. He subtly requested aid here and there, in turn promising wealth and, well, amethysts. He did have a cave-full, after all. Ruby, on the other hand, kept her eyes down and ate only a few bites from each course. In the end, it proved to be just enough; any more, and she'd have felt sick. While she would have wanted to prove her skills in politics, fear held her tongue in place. These weren't gossip-hungry folk in search of guidance. Nor were they slack-offs who were aware of the problems yet held no interest in solving them. These were the aristocrats of the aristocrats. The lords and ladies of Gotham. Their word was law, their knowledge was consuming. They had probably been discussing governing laws while she'd still been mending shirts and waxing tables. Best stay quiet, especially since her behavior would reflect Oswald.

The provided entertainment helped distract her from discomfort. First, there was a juggler. Then, a fire-eater. But it was the last one that gave Ruby pause. It was a young man, perhaps a couple of years younger than she, wearing a turban, a vest, and baggy pants. Beneath these Indian-inspired clothes was a skin as green and scaly as a jungle snake's. His belly and throat were beige, while his big eyes were yellow with slit pupils. He had no bodily hair, like a eunuch, and lacked ears.

Ruby felt the saliva in her throat dry. She recognized this man, even though he'd been one of the few inmates to vanish despite her best efforts to track him. He'd only been in Arkham briefly, but his case had been odd enough to occupy space in her mind. Mark Stone, also known as the 'Snake Boy'. In an attempt to find cures for skin cancers, scientists had fused Mark's DNA with that of a viper. The result had been a being who slept in tree branches and ate live rats. Ruby could still hear those small mammals' terrified squeals, muffled as they were dropped in his mouth. The muted crunch of their little skulls splintering between his teeth. The memory flooded her stomach with nausea, but Ruby looked away and took deep breaths.

Almost immediately, Oswald's hand found hers. "Ruby, what is it?"

Ruby shook her head. "No, I'm fine."

Oswald narrowed his eyes at her, then turned back to the Snake Boy. The scaly man had extracted a flute from behind the curtain, and was now playing sweet tunes. His turban began to jiggle. Then, a streak of black appeared within the white. Before everyone's stupefied eyes a serpent as black as petroleum emerged from the cloth, its beady eyes glinting in its diamond-shaped head. It swayed its head from side to side, intuned with the music, before slithering down to the floor. It began to move its limb-free body in tempo with the song, following Mark's steps. Man and snake were dancing together as the crowd laughed and cheered.

Oswald's lips became a thin line. He turned to one of the butlers, who were standing against the wall. Making a gesture to get one's attention, he soon had it. Once the man's face was close, Oswald leaned forward and hissed in his ear. "Give this reptilian performer a cheque of a thousand dollars in my name. Tell him, however, that I will annul the cheque if he is still in Gotham by morning."

The butler bowed. "Yes, sir." He retreated, leaving the two friends once again alone surrounded by people.

Oswald took in Ruby's expression. She had gone back to looking, her chinless face an expressionless mask. The mayor placed his hand on the back of Ruby's neck. The skin there was cool and soft. "You don't have to look." He whispered to her. She nodded without turning back. "Yes, I do." She swallowed. "I have to see what happens to people like me. To be forced to flee, or to do shameful entertainment like this."

Oswald's brow furrowed. "That won't be your fate."

Ruby let out a shaky sigh. "For now."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Ruby turned back to him, "the only thing standing between me and that," she pointed at Snake Boy, "is you. Without you to back me, I'd never have become first deputy mayor. I wouldn't have been able to stay at home after Master died." She swallowed. "I could go on fighting for you, killing for you, but that will never pay my debt. If it weren't for you, I'd be no better than the ones I smuggled out of the city." Ruby turned away. "That's just the way things are."

Before Oswald could say anything, there was a roar of applause. With some reluctance, Ruby joined. Mark had done what he'd been paid to do, probably just enough to pay for his dinner, and he'd done it well. She couldn't deny that. Mark gave a proud bow, not even realizing - or maybe not caring - that the people cheering just saw him as a well-trained monkey. A freakshow entertainment, less than them. Hell, less than the people who polished their shoes. With a large smile, he gathered his snake and departed the scene. There was a flash of green, and then nothing.

Taking a deep breath, Ruby rose. "I need a breather." Oswald quickly got up as well. He was Ruby's shadow as she reached the window. It was sealed, true, but still gave a magnificent view. Down below, the city glittered like a thousand gems swimming in ink. Ruby's eyes reflected the lights without giving off any of their own. Oswald took her hand. It was clammy and damp, but he held it anyway. Ruby squeezed his hand, but said nothing. Oswald searched for the words before at last speaking them, uncertain. "You are not one of those things to me, Ruby."

Ruby cracked a smile. "At least in part, I am."

Oswald arched a brow. "How so?"

"It's hard to ignore it." Ruby replied, finally looking at him. "Sure, you don't treat me differently. You don't act like I'm a ticking time bomb. But no matter how you act, you can't forget that I'm not your average human. And I never will be." She gave a bitter laugh. "I don't know why I bother to pretend that I am. I belong to a different group altogether...unloved." The last word came out as a whisper.

She fell quiet, knowing all too well that she'd said too much. Deep down, a part of her had felt it. Perhaps it was a simple case of bad luck. Or a result of preference: she liked men, and so did Oswald. But she knew that a part of her had always feared that it went beyond that. Maybe Oswald didn't return her feelings was because, despite his behavior, he could never forget that she different. This difference immediately caused a drift between them, making her unfit as a possible mate. Perhaps Oswald didn't love her because it wasn't _natural_ to love something so _unnatural_.

"Mayor Cobblepot!" A man's voice broke out. Oswald twisted his head. Ruby, too, snapped out of her thoughts. An elderly couple was heading towards them. The man, bald as an egg, looked friendly enough. But the woman...something about her immediately set Ruby on edge. She was pale and blonde, dressed in white and standing straight-backed. She had an effortlessly regal air to her, as though she'd been born to rule and had every intention to do so. Her expression was smiling but condescending; her eyes like chips of dirty ice.

Oswald, sensing her stiffened posture, took her hand again. Ruby felt her feelings uncoil, if only a bit. "Hello, Senator Rorke." He gave a small bow. Setting his eyes on the woman, he added, "I fear, my lady, that I haven't the pleasure of knowing your name."

The woman smirked. "Kathryn." Even the way she said it made the name sound like divine music.

Oswald nodded. "Splendid name. Senator Rorke and Lady Kathryn," he smiled and turned to Ruby, "this is my...my companion. Ruby Sinclair."

Ruby felt butterflies in her stomach as she gave a polite courtsy. She tried to smile. "Pleased to meet the both of you."

"Charmed." Rorke smiled evenly. Yet when Ruby faced Kathryn, the woman fixed her with a gelid simper. "Oh, yes. I don't believe I've ever met one of Professor Strange's experiments in person."

Ruby's attempt of a smile slid off her face. Oswald turned to Kathryn, a subtle glint in his eye. Ruby straightened. "We were everywhere in Indian Hill. I have a thousand brothers and sisters."

"Those experiments were born of curiousity and intelligence, weren't they?" Oswald interjected. Ruby looked at him with wide as he added, "We don't despise, or even look down on them, in my household."

"No?" Kathryn's frozen smile widened. "How very _tolerant_ of you."

"And what, may I ask, is your status here?" Ruby asked her a bit heatedly. "Maybe you were a queen in some foreign land." She squinted at Kathryn. "Indeed, your neck seems to be a bit crooked from wearing a heavy crown."

Oswald had to bite his lip to avoid chuckling.

Kathryn, too, gave a slight laugh. It dropped the room's temperature by about five degrees. "I suppose mine is a weight that you will never know, Miss Sinclair. By the way, it's a shame that your mother couldn't be here."

Ruby's ears turned bright red, yet her face remained calm.

"Please, give your mother my regards." Senator Rorke chimed in. "I've been a fan of hers for years."

"Surely, thank you." Ruby nodded. "Funny, Miss Kathryn. I've never seen your face around. Yet you are here, and Opal Sinclair is not."

"People everywhere display power in different ways." Kathryn replied calmly. Smiling. "Some like to flaunt what little they have, sacrificing good sense and decency. Others remain in the shadows, yet ensure that the machine of the city is well-maintained." She turned to Oswald. "I suppose we should be thankful, Mr. Mayor, that Gotham is ruled by the latter sort of people."

Oswald nodded politely. Tightening his hold on Ruby's hand.

And that was when Jervis Tetch made his presence known.


	63. Chapter 62

Chapter 62

Jervis Tetch stood in the doorway, looking half like a madman and half like a corpse. His shoulder-length hair, once shiny and chocolate-hued, was oily and uncombed. His once handsome face was emanciated, his eyes like dark tunnels. Yet his attire was impeccable: a large top hat, a green jacket, an orange tie, and checkered pants. Each article of clothing was well-pressed, ironed, and clean. This man cared more about his wild illusions rather than reality, and this extended to his own body.

"Greetings!" He spread his arms out in a theatrical manner. "I hope you've all had a lovely evening thus far. Otherwise, the drinks that I've had brought would go to waste!" He snapped his fingers. Two great, hulking figures emerged from behind the curtains. Hideous, they were: towering, muscled curmudgeons dressed in ridiculous costumes and paint smeared on their faces. To further mock them, it seemed, Tetch had had them carry trays loaded with drinks. Yet Oswald immediately sensed that there was something wrong with the drinks. They were an intense red color, like frozen blood, and smoke was gathering at the glass's rims.

Several of the party members jumped to their feet. Rushed to the door and tried in vain to open it. They were stilled with smoke and hot lead. The guests who had remained seated began to yell and hide under the table. Another shot, this time aimed at the ceiling, quieted the ruckus. "I believe that's enough!" Tetch cackled. "In this sealed room, there is only one law, and that is mine!"

"We're the elite class of Gotham!" A man, overcoming fear with anger, jumped to his feet. "Do you realize who we are? There are easier ways to kill yourself!"

"Yes," Tetch agreed, "like provoking the man carrying a firearm." He lowered said gun - a 1928 Tommygun. Not bad. Grinning madly, he leaned forward. "No need to fret, my little ducklings! All I wanted, anyhow, was to propose a toast?"

"And if we don't?" A woman shot back.

Tetch shrugged. Tilted his head towards the bleeding corpses piled before the door. Like sanguine sacrifices left on an altar. "All I ask is for a toast, and then I will go on my merry way." He took one such glass, holding it up with mirth even as crimson foam spilled over the edge.

"Do you really think we'll let you go, after what you've done?" Another woman called out. "After you've spilled noble blood?"

Tetch shrugged again as his large lackeys began to serve the beverage to the surviving guests. "Those who are sons of nobles, those who are sons of fisherman...all our blood is the same color."

Oswald and Ruby's hands intertwined. They closed their eyes.

A flash of light turned night into day. All heads turned towards its source, including Jervis Tetch. What he saw nearly caused him to drop the precious liquid. A person, neither male nor female, stood behind the table. It was a tall figure, with pale peach skin and curly black hair. From the waist up, its figure was gangly and masculine; yet it carried the hips and thighs of a healthy woman. Pearls were woven within the ebony strands, shining like stars. A long, beaky nose stuck out of its round face. Its clothes were a peculiar mix of man and woman's attire: a coal-colored jacket, missing the rest of the suit, over a pearl-hued dress. There was a deep blue tie hanging from its neck, with rainbow quartz gems sewn into the silk. When it opened its eyes - one icy-blue, one cobalt - it smirked at him.

"The next blood to be spilled," Cobblair growled, "will be _yours!_ "

Without another word they leapt over the table, their hands reaching. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum slammed in front of their boss, forming a fleshy shield. Cobblair smirked again, then became engulfed in light. Ruby and Oswald emerged from the luminescence, each landing on a different twin. Ruby curled her rubbery body around Tweedle Dum, squeezing him until his skin purpled. Oswald, on the other hand, sunk his teeth deep into the man's neck. With a vicious grunt he yanked his head backwards. Tweedle Dee's throat shone redly between his teeth, gushing lifeblood. Spitting it out, Oswald planted his well-polished shoes into the man's chest and propelled himself backwards. Grinning, he watched the man shudder as he collapsed, his eyes rolling back.

A screech made him turn. Tweedle Dum had Ruby's hair in his fist, ripping her off him as one would a leech. Yelling in pain, Ruby clutched his hand in an attempt to lessen his hold. When that only made him pull harder, she held her hands up. Her nails grew as long and sharp as icicles. She jabbed them fully into the big man's eyes. Wailing in agony, Tweedle Dum tossed Ruby away. Her nails slid out of the gelatinous ruins that were his eye sockets. She hit the carpeted floor with a grunt, clutching her bleeding scalp.

Oswald was by her side at once. His hands on her shoulders, calming their trembling. "Are you alright?" He asked urgently.

Ruby winced. "I've been better." Shaking her head, she looked up at her friend. Smiled mischievously. "Ready for the finishing blow?"

Oswald grinned back at her. "I was born ready."

Tweedle Dum, still wailing to the heavens, did not notice Cobblair's return until it was too late. They lifted him up in the air as if he weighed nothing. Then, knowing better than to prolong his misery, aimed for the window. With a cry they threw. Glass shattered. Screams faded in the distance. The flailing man was consumed by the lights below, until one could no longer see him. Cobblair stood there, panting and wiping their brow.

Kathryn watched the spectacle with intrigued eyes.

Cobblair turned to Jervis, who was cowering in a corner. Growling, they marched towards him. "Sorry, we were wrong. Your lackeys did all the bleeding." Grabbing a handful of Tetch's shirt, they lifted him into the air. "We hope you picked the hat for your funeral!" One hand raised, transforming into a sword made of filed-down bone. Before it could meet its mark, Jervis Tetch whipped out his wristwatch. Then, as it swung from side to side, he began to chant.

His words were tentacles encircling the minds of all who heard them. Including Cobblair. Everyone stilled, the light fading from their eyes. Cobblair began to glow again, their form beginning to divide. As the guests stilled, like frogs staring into a hungry snake's eyes, his words thickened until they coated whatever sense of reality. In its place was a world of red. Red, red, like the drinks steadily making their way to the guests' lips.

Then, the doors burst open, breaking the spell. Policemen swarmed into the room like ants on a picnic, raising their guns and yelling. The awakened guests screamed as they dropped to their knees, still unable to understand their surroundings. Dozens of glowing crimson dots appeared on Tetch's body, ready to end his life upon provocation. The glowing being in front of him, split down the middle like a torn paper man, suddenly opened its eyes. Icy blue. Dark blue. Then, its body stitched itself back together. The glowing ceased, leaving only a weakened but unharmed Cobblair.

Harvey whistled as he appeared, gun in hand. As he approached, he eyed the creature. He had heared rumors circulating about such a being, but he hadn't believed it. Yet now, as he looked at its face, the similarities were too distinguished to be ignored.

He gave the person a polite nod. "Hello, er, Mr. Cobblepot. Sinclair."

Cobblair grinned. "We are neither of these people. And we're both of them."

* * *

Tensions flickered like tongues of flame within the saloon's walls. Isabella, in a fine black dress, sat in a chair. She had not given any indication of her thoughts since her arrival; not by word nor by face. Edward, on the other hand, had not stopped pacing or talking since their reunion. His heart beat as quickly as a thousand horse hooves, and it was only picking up the pace. As the ugly truth arose.

"And so, while I did..." he stopped, struggled, before spitting out, "kill my girlfriend...who does look rather similar to you..." he hurried on, "it was not out of malice or intent. It was an accident, that I _deeply_ regret!" His words became more desperate by the minute. "I was not going to tell you this, but-"

"Edward," Isabella interjected gently. "I know what you did."

Edward froze. All of a sudden, he felt naked. No, worse than naked. He felt as though his skin and muscles had been peeled back to show his heart to all. To show Isabella the horror and shame that he had to live with. He felt overexposed to the point that he wanted nothing more than to bury himself. Yet his undying curiousity rooted him to the spot. "You do?" He asked.

"I spent the article reading every article about you." Isabella further elaborated. Her voice never changed in tone. It stayed soft and gentle, as if speaking to a child.

Edward stood there, unable to fully process what was unfolding. "You know what I did," he said, "and...yet you still came on this date anyway?"

Isabella gave a small, dreamy smile.

"That's not logical."

"Love isn't logical."

Edward stopped, observing this strange, wonderful creature rise and look into his eyes. "I've my whole life in the pages of books. All the other men I dated...they didn't compare to the lovers I spent my life with. Anthony and Cleopatra. Romeo and Juliet. Othello and Desdemona." Her voice was soft and gentle, nostalgic, as if recounting the names and faces of true friends rather than characters in print.

Edward smiled in spite of his nervousness. "All of them died."

"Edward," Isabella said, "you're the first to measure up. You're the one I've waited for."

Isabella gave a breathy, tremulous laugh. "Of course I am." She whispered, taking his hand. She placed it on her chest, which was rising and falling with shaky pants. "Can you feel how fast my heart is beating?"

An electric charge rushed between them, capable of lighting the darkest pits of the ocean. Magnetic. Irresistible. The two looked into each other's eyes, longing etched into their features. Slowly, deliberately, they leaned into each other and shared a tender kiss. They probably would have kept kissing until dawn had stumbled footsteps not reached them.

"Well, Ed, you would not believe that-" Cobblair froze into place, their jaw dropped.

Edward and Isabella quickly pulled away from each other, red spots in their cheeks. Edward smiled amicably at the fusion, taking it as a sign that the evening had gone well. Isabella, on the other hand, stared at the figure with a mixture of confusion and fascination.

Cobblair kept staring, eyes wide and jaw dropped, when a flash overcame them. There were two grunts, and two _thumps_. Oswald and Ruby were slammed against opposite pillars, groaning and rubbing the backs of their heads. Ruby blushed and quickly bowed, embarressed for both pairs. Oswald, on the other hand, struggled to stop hyperventilating.

"Oswald! Ruby! Good evening." Edward greeted them.

"Hi, Ed." Ruby greeted the bespeckled man.

Oswald didn't say anything. He just stood there, twitching like a flayed fish.

"This is Isabella." Edward turned to look at his beauty, who exhaled sheepishly.

Oswald finally found his tongue. Forcing on a faux smile, he squeaked out, "We have met." He gave a nervous bow as Isabella cleared her throat. "Would you excuse me? I am...very tired." Trying to keep his eyes dry, he limped out of the room. Ruby followed, shooting Ed a quick thumbs-up.

Edward and Isabella turned back to each other, and the rest of the world melted away.

* * *

Oswald lay on his back, half-dressed and his belly filled with brandy. Ruby lay beside him, changed into a nightgown. She lay beside him, staring at the canopy as she knew him to be doing. But he wasn't seeing the gold and purple pattern above their heads. No, he was seeing something far less pleasing. Ruby had only finished merging with him, yet she could still sense it. His horror. His disgust. His pain. His lust.

That last part scared her a bit, especially since he'd been drinking from the bottle since the moment he'd entered his room. But against her better judgement, Ruby had come to keep him company. Why? Because love is the death of common sense.

"What does he see in her?" Oswald's voice was a scratchy croak. "What does she have that I lack? What can she give him that I cannot?"

Ruby could guess valuable answers to any of those quandries. But rather than rub salt into the wounds, she took his hand. The one that wasn't clutching brandy. "We don't...we don't choose who we love, Oz." She closed her eyes to keep the tears at bay. "If we did, there would be so much less pain in the world."

Oswald broke into fresh tears. Again. Ruby didn't move, just continued to hold his hand. She knew better than to disrupt the waterworks. The more he cried now, the less his heart would hurt in the aftermath. Holding it all in would only worsen matters.

After a long while, when Oswald's tears had flown down the sides of his face and dried there, he took a ragged breath. Took a swing at the brandy and winced. Liquid fire scurried down his throat. Coughing, he set the bottle down. At last. Oswald sighed. "I...you know what's foolish?"

"What?" Ruby asked.

"I...from the first time he told me of...of my weakness...I thought that, perhaps, he liked me. If only a bit."

Ruby squeezed his hand. "Of course he did." _Who wouldn't?_

"But he runs to that woman at her beck and call, as would a dog. That pig." Oswald scoffed miserably.

Ruby frowned. "Well? Is he a dog or a pig?"

"Worse." Oswald scowled. "He's a man."

Ruby, in spite of herself, let out a laugh. Upon hearing it, Oswald chuckled. The two friends shared a hearty chortle unlike any heard by the jolly. It was the kind of laughter shared by people facing emotional breakdowns, horrors, and pain...and chose to laugh about it. Feeling weights lift off their shoulders, Oswald and Ruby rolled on their sides. They were now facing each other. And still holding hands. Oswald looked absurdly handsome tonight, even after crying and hitting the booze for two hours. Even as every breath he blew in her direction was heavy and rank with alcohol. His eyes glittered like blue diamonds. His cheeks were ruddy. His features, so sorrowful in their beauty, caused a deep ache in Ruby's chest. She hoped that her expression was as neutral as it felt. Stiffened by resistence.

Oswald stared at her for a long time. So much so that Ruby closed her own eyes in the hopes of drowning the twister of feelings in her gut. She sighed, trying to give the impression that she was falling asleep.

But then, a warm hand traced her face. Pushed back curls from her face. Tucking a few behind her ear. Ruby froze, rigid as a scared rabbit. Wishing for him to stop. "Thank you for staying with me." Oswald whispered. The aching in Ruby intensified. "No problem." She pushed the words out through gritted teeth. Oswald's hand rested on the seashells of her ear, tracing down her jaw. Ruby was trembling now. Keeping still. Was this a dream? How many times had she dreamed of something like this? How many times had she fantasized this, safe in the darkness of her room at night?

She had always imagined this differently. Oswald wouldn't have cried or drunk himself silly, for example. He wouldn't have wailed about Edward. He would have focused on her, finally seeing her the way that she saw him. Under the blankets, Ruby hadn't even cared that these dreams were nothing but that. They had been her treasures, built from pressure like her gemstones, meant to be hidden but cherished.

Now, it was actually happening. But for the wrong reasons.

So why did she just want to enjoy it? If only for a little while?

"Ruby," Oswald sighed, "you have always been such a cherished friend. Loyal, kind, empathic..." His hand rested on her cheek. His palm was as hot as an oven, burning Ruby's skin. He stared at her, long and hard. For just a brief second, a thought leaked through his mind and entered hers. She heard it as clearly as though he'd said it out loud:

 _Sometimes, I wish that I loved you instead_.

Ruby was now on the verge of tears. She began to pull away. "It's getting late, you should sleep."

Oswald shook his head. Then, without another word, he leaned towards her. Before Ruby could back away, his lips found hers and ensnared them. Ruby stopped, as though someone had severed the connection between her brain and her body. She knew that she should have pushed him off and run to her room. Probably locked the door and barricaded herself inside for good measure.

But she didn't. She had wanted this for so long, so greatly, that Ruby found herself kissing him back. Oswald's lips were incredibly soft and supple, like summer fruit just waiting to be plucked. The scent of alcohol was now overwhelming, threatening to affect her as well. Ruby closed her eyes, gently cupping Oswald's cheeks. Their kiss remained gentle, almost chaste, but steadily intensified. Oswald slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Ruby leaned in further, pressing a hand on the base of Oswald's skull. Their lips separated for only the shortest seconds as they breathed, only to reunite with a vengeance. Oswald's free hand cupped her cheek, her throat, her shoulder. His fingers traced the collar of her nightgown. Ruby, in turn, wrapped her arms around Oswald's neck, deepening the kiss-

 ** _What are you doing?!_**

Ruby's eyes flew open. In an instant she turned to sand. Oswald lay there, panting wildly, as he stared at the imprint in the blankets left by Ruby's body. Then, his eyes traced upwards. Where her particles flew overheard, then flew towards the door. They reformed into a tearful, hyperventilating Ruby. She shook her head at him. Tears flew from her eyes as she did. "No." She said. Her voice grew louder. "No, no, no, no!"

"Ruby!" Oswald slid off the bed. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, I-" He reached out to her. Ruby backed away, holding her hands up. "Don't touch me." Her voice was quiet. Feeble. She laughed at her own misery. "I'll die if you touch me." She wrenched the door open, slid through it, and slammed the door shut. Ruby wanted to run up to her room, stick to her original plan. But she lacked the strength. She felt as though she'd been lying in a tub of leeches for days, weeks, and emerged as a weak, anemic husk. Ruby crashed to the floor. She was crying before then. She hugged herself as she wept, the tears not coming quickly enough for her pain.

This time, she had no excuse. She had had the chance to stop it. To push him off and run out. To find him in the morning, recovered and apologetic. They would have laughed about the whole thing by lunch. But no. Her feelings, accumulating since, well, the day that she met him, had burst forth. It was as if they had gotten fed up with being ignored and pushed aside, and had finally taken control of her actions. It had only been...what, a minute? Two? No more than that. Yet it had still robbed her of the wall that she'd built around her heart. Of her self-image. Of her self-respect. Was this the kind of woman she was? Someone who took advantage of someone else's pain to get what she wants?

As she cried, Ruby thought of the things that she'd fantasized about. Not just about celebrating the first sparks with Oswald, but about what would come afterwards. Of her and him finally proclaiming their love for each other. Getting married. Adopting a youngling, perhaps even two or three. A perfect life that, while she had known would never realize, had still warmed her at night when the draft blew in.

But now the dream was over, leaving an unhappy reality in its wake.


	64. Chapter 63

Chapter 63

Newborn daylight flooded the garden. The flowers' colors caught fire, burning with a reverence. The unpicked blood oranges, apples, and lemons hung heavily on their branches. Coated in dew, they sparkled as the sun hit them. Brown bats small enough to fit in a handbag slipped into the shrinking shadows. Ruby watched it all with a heavy sigh. She took a sip of her hot tea, and hardly tasted it.

From her neck hung a clear, teal stone on a simple silver chain. Apatite. Said to help the wearer overcome sadness and grief. Thus far, it wasn't working.

She ran a hand through her curly hair. Closed her eyes. They burned. No surprise: she hadn't slept a wink, and had shed enough tears to fill a bathtub. Last night's events had haunted her each time she'd shut her eyes. Ruby kept hearing the soft sounds of her lips parting from Oswald's, only to collide again. She could still feel the firm, warm grip of his arm sliding around her waist. She still tasted the mixture of booze and tears from Oswald's mouth as it danced with hers. She saw the longing in his eyes burning holes into her soul. She still smelled the faint traces of spicy cologne, combined with alcohol and light sweat. It was a memory that had branded all five of her senses.

All she could do now was hope that the recollection left her quickly, lest it cost her her sanity.

Ruby had been wanting Oswald to kiss her, bit by bit, for over eighteen months. The desire had grown each day until it stood as tall and strong as a maple tree. But she had always hoped that, should it ever happen, Oswald would have kissed her out of infatuation...or even love. Not out of self-pity and misguided need for comfort.

Because, she feared, that was all that she would ever be for Oswald when it came to romance: the second choice. She had known that Oswald had intended to invite Edward on both the party celebrating Oswald's ascent and the Founders' Dinner. On the first time, Edward hadn't been around often enough to be asked; on the second, he'd already organized his evening. Ruby had known it, but she had repressed it. Buried it. Hoped that it was just her own lack of self-confidence and suspicion. Instead, that feeling had been a dark mirror that she'd refused to peer into.

Ruby covered her face. Her shoulders trembled. "Master," she whispered, "what am I supposed to do?"

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, came the scuttling noises of cobblestones being scattered about. An active engine. Ruby looked up. Through tear-blurred vision she saw what looked like a taxi, if the number on the passenger's door was anything to go by. A figure climbed out, slammed the door shut, and all but threw money through the driver's open window. Then, as the taxi backed away, the figure lumbered closer. Ruby rubbed her eyes. Removing her dampened hands, she saw Edward stumbling towards her.

To put it briefly, he looked terrified.

Panting like a hunting dog, he crashed on the porch beside her. "Hey," Ruby put a hand between his shoulder blades, "what's wrong, Stretch?"

"Oh, Ruby." Edward gasped and sputtered for air as though he'd run a marathon. A few chestnut strands clung to his forehead. Sweat created dark patches at his armpits and lower back. His face was as white as parchment. "It lived in the past, and lives on today. It exists in neither time period, yet haunts both. What is it?"

"A ghost." Ruby answered. Her brow furrowed. Setting down her mug of tea, she placed her free hand on Edward's arm. "Dude...why don't you tell me what happened? From the beginning?"

"No, no." Edward shook his head half-heartedly. "I wouldn't want to spew my tale of woe onto you."

Ruby gave him a morose smile. "I'll tell you mine afterwards, so we'll be even."

Edward looked at her for a long moment. Speculating. Calculating. Hoping. At last, he dipped his chin in a nod.

* * *

The sun slowly rose into the sky, burning away the dew and offering pallid warmth to the world below. But before it had risen too high, clouds came rolling in like horse-drawn chariots. So thick, they were, they seemed solid. Before long, whatever heat had been descending upon the earth quickly chilled once again.

Edward's story offered no improvements on that state. Ruby listened, dumbstruck, as he painted a terrifying portrait of his morning. A pair of glasses that echoed the past. A second face in the mirror, jeering and mocking. Delicate hands tightening around a slender throat. Gasping, choking sounds. All drenched in pure despair.

"What if I do end up hurting Isabella, as I did Kristen?" Edward asked at long last. "What if I'm caught in this vicious cycle of love and death?"

Ruby rubbed her coworker's shoulder. Her lips were pressed together, while her eyes evaded capture. At last, she sighed. "Ed, I'm going to be really _real_ with you for a second."

Edward nodded, his eyes as large and trusting as a seal's.

"You're scared of hurting someone you love, I get that. And given your past, it's natural for you to feel like that." Ruby stated. "But at the same time, you can't let your fear rule your life. Maybe something bad will happen, but maybe it won't. What if you don't end up hurting Isabella, but you run away all the same? Then, you'll live out the rest of your life with that big, 'what if?'" Ruby gave a sad laugh. "And believe me: life is too long to ask yourself things like that." She looked away. "If you and Isabella make each other happy, then I say, 'have at it'. Dude, there's so little happiness in the world. Don't squander any because of fear."

Edward swallowed. "What if I'm simply too scared to cast the past aside? What if the thought of harming her haunts me every moment I share with her?"

Ruby rubbed her neck uncomfortably. Knowing that Edward had opened up to her, she decided to continued being honest. He deserved that much. "If you're that scared...then let her go. Living in fear all your life? That's not a solution. Though, I'd do it only as a last resort."

Edward slowly nodded. With some hesitation, he reached out. Took the hand resting on his shoulder. Ruby turned, surprised, as Edward squeezed it. Smiling softly, he let go. Ruby sighed as she rested the hand on her knee. "I almost wish we could trade problems."

"Oh, that's right." Edward crossed his legs. A few bones popped like overheated popcorn. "You still have to share your story with me."

Ruby blushed. "I...know I promised, but it's kind of embarrassing."

"More embarrassing than being caught by the police? After confessing to your most hated enemy?" Edward scoffed. "Not likely." He scratched his cheek. "You listened to me for over an hour. I believe you deserve the same courtesy."

Ruby closed her eyes. Inhaled deeply. "I...Oswald and I...we kissed last night."

Edward stopped. Blinked at the void, then turned back to Ruby. "Pardon?"

"He was drunk." Ruby added quickly. "And...upset. You heard about that mess that happened at the Founders' Dinner?"

"Yes, on the news this morning." Edward swallowed. "Indeed, I was wondering why you and Oswald checked in last night as Cobblair. I thought, maybe...it had been a preference."

Ruby curled a lock around her index finger. "I wish. No, we'd fought Tetch and were too tired to un-fuse. Basically, we were the only thing keeping each other standing." She sighed, looking at the grass. "But after this...fusing may just get weird."

Edward patted her back, looking at her significantly. "Ruby...what Oswald did was wrong."

"I know!" Ruby snapped, then quickly cooled down. "Sorry." She added guiltily.

Edward shook his head to show that it was alright.

"It's just..." Ruby sighed. "I... _wanted_ it, Ed. Not like that, but..."

"You love him," Edward said softly, "don't you?"

Ruby froze. Gulped as she turned to him fearfully. "How-how do you-?"

"I think a blind man could see it." Edward cracked a smile. "I barely have a reason to be interested in you two, and I noticed."

"Oh, jeez." Ruby knotted her hands in her hair. Edward swallowed, realizing only too late that his joke had been premature, before patting her back again. "Er, what I meant was, well...what do you want to do now?"

Ruby shook her head. "I wish I knew." Sighing, she rose. "I guess I'll just see how things work out, eh?" When Edward nodded, this somehow endeared him to her. Cracking a smile, she saluted him. "Thanks for listening, Ed."

Edward smiled. "That's what friends are for."

Ruby stopped. This was the first time that their rapport had been labeled. At first, they had barely tolerated each other. Then, little by little, they had come to a sort of understanding. A ceasefire. Isabella had further unified them, helping them soften their relationship's rough edges. Now, it felt as though they had reached the top of a hill that they hadn't realized they'd been climbing. Simpering, she waved at him and disappeared into the house.

But who, of course, would have been waiting for her?

Ruby stopped. Her throat closed as though squeezed by an angry fist. Oswald stood in front of her, dressed in a gray-and-black striped suit. He clutched an onyx cane with a white wolf's head as a handle. His ebony hair was washed and gelled into its familiar spikes. His eyes were a bit bloodshot, and his cheeks were a bit ruddy, but other than that, he was the same Oswald as always.

Except, he wasn't. Ruby doubted that she would ever see him as the same Oswald again.

She quickly took a left.

"Ruby, wait!" Oswald called after her desperately. Ruby quickened her pace. She drove down the corridor, through one of the dining rooms, and spotted a flight of stairs. She'd only reached the first step when Oswald's voice materialized behind her. "Ruby."

"What?!" Ruby spun around.

Oswald took a tiny step forward, his icy-blue eyes never leaving her face. "I spent all of last night lying in bed, staring at the canopy and thinking about you."

Ruby scowled as she folded her arms.

"And...I did an awful thing." Oswald said. "I was upset, yes, and drunk. But that does not excuse the fact that I kissed you without consent. I was desperate for comfort, and I took it from you, not caring about your own feelings." He swallowed, guilt written all over his angular face. "Ruby...for just a second, I didn't care about how you felt. I was only thinking of myself, and my needs. I will never completely forgive myself for that. I swear to you, it will never happen again." He swallowed, his mouth dry. "I'm deeply sorry."

Ruby closed her eyes. Her heart melted. She knew that he meant it. She had lived with him, spoken with him, merged with him long enough to discern the truth from the lies. A part of her wound closed. The other section remained gaping. She sighed, too tired to hold onto the pain. Wanting, more than anything, to feel peace. "Look, just...watch your drinking habits, and we'll never speak of this again."

Oswald hesitated. "Yes...but first, I would like to say one final thing."

 _Oh, God_. Ruby squeezed her eyes shut. "Okay, just...get on with it, before I plug my ears."

"You were my first."

Ruby stopped. Opened her eyes. "What?"

Oswald gave a helpless gesture, as if to say, 'Well, there you have it'. "Last night was the first time that I had ever kissed anyone in that way. Ruby, while I will never stop regretting my actions, I cannot deny that that was my first kiss. Truth be told, I am grateful that I shared it with you." He looked away. "I must seem horrible right now, speaking of your assault in such a positive manner-"

"It wasn't assault."

Oswald turned back to her in surprise.

Ruby was, to his relief, giving him a small smile. "I mean, do you really think I couldn't have pushed you off, if I'd really wanted to? That I was incapable of defending myself?"

"Not in the slightest." Oswald responded honestly.

"Good, because it's true." Ruby nodded. "Sure, it was a shocker for the first couple of seconds. But then...it was nice."

Oswald turned a deep pink. He offered her his hand. She took it. Their fingers intertwined, holding onto each other for dear life. The mayor looked directly into his friend's eyes. Icy-blue mixed with indigo. "I will never discard your well-being again. I swear it."

Ruby felt tears fill her eyes, but she held them in check. She inhaled through her nostrils, lest she reveal how close she was to crying. "And if you ever do, for whatever reason, I'll punch some sense back into you. I swear _that_."

Oswald gave a light chuckle that contaminated Ruby. He tugged slightly at their joined hands. Ruby stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. They held each other for a long time. They held on like drowned people on a floating plank. Struggling to breathe again.

That was when Edward walked back inside, rubbing his eyes. Unnoticed by Ruby and Oswald, he took deep breaths and leaned back. A cold stone sat in the pit of his stomach, imposing and heavy to bear. As was the decision resting in his heart.

The decision that ensured both Isabella's safety...and his lifetime supply of unhappiness.


	65. Chapter 64

Chapter 64

By mid-afternoon, the sky had become an unforgiving gray. Flocks of crows took flight, speckling the horizon. It was gloomy enough to warrant the illumination of candles during lunch, which was taken in relative silence. Over bowls of turnip soup and slices of toasted rye bread, Oswald and Ruby kept exchanging tiny smiles. Edward didn't notice; he kept his head down as he ate, his brow furrowed in thought. As their empty bowls were taken away and replaced with small cups of coffee, Ruby caught Oswald's eye and gave him a questioning look. When he frowned, clearly puzzled, Ruby subtly tilted her head in Edward's direction. As comprehension dawned in his eyes, Oswald nodded reassuringly.

But it turned out that he didn't need to speak to Edward. The moment the table was cleared, he shot up like a bullet and marched into the sitting room. When Oswald and Ruby found him pacing back and forth, they knew better than to push him. He was clearly on the verge of exploding already. Hesiantly, the two seated themselves on the divan in front of Edward. Right in time for his worried speech.

"Maybe she was right." He said. For a second, Ruby thought that he was referring to her. But if she was in the same room as him, why would he call her 'she' and not by her name? Edward confirmed it when he continued. "What if there's something about Miss Kringle's..." He squeezed his eyes shut, correcting himself, "...Kristen's...Isabella's face...what if there's something about her face that unlocks this side of me?"

Oswald stopped, then slowly grinned. He felt something of his own unlocking. A fountain of emotions gushed forth, filling his every fibre. Excitement. Triumph. Love. They all burned deliciously like fire logs on the first winter's day.

"What if I _do_ hurt her?" Edward asked, biting his thumbnail nervously.

Ruby sighed. "Did I talk to a freaking garden gnome this morning?"

"No, Ruby, of course not." Edward replied. "But I...I'm too frightened of the idea of hurting her." When his gaze transferred from the fair-haired woman to the mayor, his brows rose. "Oswald."

Oswald looked up dreamily, his temple resting against his knuckles. "Yes."

"You're smiling." Edward's voice deepened. Ruby turned to her friend, puzzled. Oswald straightened, his expression surprised. "I was."

"Yes." Edward confirmed tersely. Ruby sighed, rubbing her own temples.

For a moment, Oswald said nothing. His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish's. Then, he finally recovered his voice. It didn't sound convincing in the slightest. "Well, I was just thinking...how darned lucky Isabella is!"

Ruby stared at him, her eyebrows scrunched together.

"You love her, but to protect her, you are willing to break up with her." Oswald rested his hands on his knees, looking earnestly at his friend. "Beautiful. Sad, but beautiful."

"Oh, God." Ruby whispered, dropping her head.

"So you think I should break up with her." Edward wasn't asking; but he sounded uncertain.

Oswald's icy-blue eyes widened theatrically. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought that was what we were talking about." He quickly dialled it back, thank goodness, holding his hands up. "Certainly, I would never-"

"No, you're right." Edward sat down next to Oswald, a concerned look on his face. "If I did hurt her, I'd never forgive myself."

Oswald sighed dramatically. "That life would put her in your path again, only to snatch her from you. Why?" He asked rhetorically.

Edward pressed his fingers against his eyes, beneath his square glasses. "I can't do it."

Oswald's head whipped back towards his friend. "What?"

"I can't break up with her." Edward's voice was muffled as his hands crawled further into his face like giant spiders.

Oswald looked almost frightened before putting on a reasonable tone. "But you said yourself-"

"I need you to do it for me." Edward decided. He turned to Oswald with pleading eyes. "Would you do that?"

"Uh," Ruby interjected, "I think I should do it. You know, Isabella might take it better if she hears it from a woman. More familiar, you know?"

"But she's only met you once, and you two barely exchanged pleasantries." Oswald replied firmly. "I, on the other hand, spoke to her already. I know how to tell her."

"Yeah, I bet you do." Ruby replied tartly before turning back to Edward. "Ed, please."

"Ruby," Edward held his hand up, "I appreciate it, but I'd rather Oswald did it. He is a wordsmith, and I trust he'll break it to her gently." He reverted his attention to his friend. "Just...be gentle."

Oswald slapped his hand on his friend's knee. Squeezed it while meeting his eye. "Of course."

Ruby sighed, defeated. "Alright, I've had enough of this." Standing up once again, she combed a hand through her hair. "If you'll excuse me, I have gems to polish." Without waiting for a reply, she marched out of the room. Oswald bit his lip as he watched her go. He hoped, no, _prayed_ that all was still alright between them. They had only patched things up hours earlier, and he wanted more than anything to keep those stitches holding.

One thing was for sure, though. Isabella had once again caused friction between them. That was just one more reason to avoid gentleness altogether.

* * *

The next forty-five minutes passed as if behind a frosted window: vaguely, distant, and hardly important. Oswald summoned his driver, gave him the harlot's address, and watched the city unwind. As the sky began to darken, with a light drizzle of hail clacking against the limo's roof, the streets' crowds thinned out. Gutters swollen with litter and rain sputtered as if choked. Torn, wet newspapers twirled with every gust of cold wind. Scantily-clad women, barely sheltered under the newspapers they were raising, leaned against cars as they flirted with the drivers. The buildings looked half-drowned, with orange veins of rust running up their sides.

Oswald remembered how people called this city. Beautiful. Broken. He supposed that it was true. But a city is only as good as its inhabitants.

At long last, he reached the harlot's apartment building. It was the only one on its street to look remotely cared for. The front yard was without trees or flowers, but the grass was mown. The saffron-colored bricks were a bit grimy, but clean compared to most. Only a few of the windows were boarded up. As Oswald limped towards the front door, he spotted a couple sitting behind a table. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the table was loaded with jewelry. Necklaces. Bracelets. Anklets. Earrings. Their rainbow hues were like a lighthouse's beam on a stormy night. Oswald hesitated, before inching closer to the table. The couple perked up as they saw him approach, but he didn't give them so much as a look.

Ruby hadn't come down the stairs to say goodbye to him. When he'd climbed into the limousine, he'd nevertheless felt her presence, like a pulsing in the back of his head. He'd stopped and looked behind him. There, in the round wide window of the attic, had been Ruby. With a tourmaline pendant in her hand, the deep green of a Scottish prairie, she had gazed down at him with a mixture of wariness and longing. Smiling hesitantly, Oswald had raised a hand in farewell. After a second, she had done the same.

That had convinced Oswald that, at the very least, she wasn't angry. But that wasn't enough. He wanted to tighten the bonds between them, to further bury the hurt and embarrassment that had come with last night. That was why, as he looked at the array of gems and beads, he attempted to see them through Ruby's eyes. At last, he selected a necklace long enough to be roped about the sternum several times, beaded with chunks of gold and amber. When the woman behind the stand asked for a mere thirty-five dollars in payment, Oswald took a piece of amber between his teeth and bit down. Hard. When the gem did not crack, but his molar did, Oswald smirked to himself. This mere street woman had no idea that she'd used real gems. She'd probably thought that they were made from plastic and colored glass.

Oswald felt a little proud of himself. By seeing the jewelry with Ruby's eyes, he had snuffed out the only genuine gems on the table. Either that, or living with an aspiring geologist for eighteen months had rubbed off on him.

Deciding that the gift itself was what truly mattered, Oswald paid the woman and had the necklace placed into a little velvet satchel. Tucking it into his jacket's breast pocket, he pushed the front door open. His heart galloped at a million miles per minute, almost hurting him, as he climbed up the stairs. At last, he reached the door to Isabella's apartment. It was no different than the other doors - plain, with slightly peeling paint - but the sight angered him nonetheless. This was going to be sweet. He let the side of his fist collide with the door. Repeatedly. At last, there was a click and a creak. Isabella stood before him, her face even whiter thanks to the black turtleneck that she was wearing. Her pale blonde hair was done up in a bun, as usual, and her lips were painted a delicate, seashell pink.

Oh, she looked so innocent. That made the prospect all the more enjoyable.

"Mayor Cobblepot?" The words stumbled out of her plump lips like drunkards.

Oswald grinned. "Hello, Isabella." He gestured to the door separating them. "May I?"

"Uh..." For a moment, Isabella hesitated. No doubt it was her survival instinct tingling with suspicion. In the briefest of seconds, Oswald thought that she would close that door in his face. Instead, the gap opened and she stepped aside. "Of course."

Smirking, Oswald lumbered inside. His gift for Ruby was very warm, almost hot, against his chest. It made him feel even more powerful than he already did. He examined his surroundings as he awaited Isabella. The walls were the color of wild strawberries. Wan sunlight streamed in through tan curtains. Paintings of flowers and birds hung from the walls. The furniture was pale, varying from cream-shaded to pallid green. There were bookshelves, stuffed to the brim, in both the corridor and the saloon.

The place wasn't half bad. It deserved a better owner.

A brown smudge caught Oswald's eye. Turning his head, he saw the suitcase sitting near the doorway like an obedient dog. Smirking, he pointed at it. "Going somewhere?"

"Just for a couple of nights." Isabella wrung her hands as she spoke to him. Her voice was strained, nervous. Good. "But I was hoping to talk to Ed before I left. Tried calling him. Is he okay?"

Oswald inhaled. "Hm. Yes. How shall I put this?" He didn't need to think twice for the answer. Seeing Isabella's stupid, blank face facilitated the words' arrival. "It's over." God, it felt amazing to say. Like the first churchbells ringing in the dawn air.

Isabella just blinked dumbly, like a cow. "Excuse me?"

"He is not going to see you anymore. Do not try to contact him. That door is closed." Then, for good measure, he smirked again. "Have a nice life."

Isabella gasped, then heaved in her hand. "Oh, my." Crumpling as though someone had kneed her in the gut, she perched on the closest sofa's armrest. Trembling like a sparrow caught in the rain, with her own personal rain accumulating in her eyes.

Oswald continued, unable to help himself. "It is a shock. But besides your..." he paused, frowning, as he picked a word, " _odd_ resemblance to his ex, a certain facility with riddles..." He trailed off, spotting the paper people again, and growled, "compulsion for order..." Oswald cleared his head. "What is it that you two really have in common? Edward is a person of exceptional intelligence and imagination. He deserves to be appreciated by someone on his own level. And you, my dear, are simply not." He leaned slightly towards her, glowering. He was literally as well as figuratively above her. "Best to end things now."

Isabella looked up at him with watery eyes. "You're right." She shook her head. "I don't deserve him."

His chest bursting with glory, Oswald bore a smile. "Glad we agree. Bye!"

"But I'm not gonna let him go." Isabella added, stopping Oswald dead in his tracks. He stood there, feeling like he'd just stepped out, expecting a warm summer's day but instead finding a blizzard. He stared at her, disbelieving, as she continued. Standing up. "He loves me, and I love him. Do you know how rare that is, Mr. Mayor?"

Oswald could only stare at her, flabberghasted, when something changed in her visage. He could not describe it, precisely. But he saw it. As she did. "Of course you do," she whispered, "because you love him, too. I can see it." Oswald could only move his lips soundlessly, feeling as exposed as a flayed man hanging on display. Deep color bled into his cheeks. "I'm not even jealous." Isabella seemed to say this with more wonder than superiority.

Before Oswald could say a word, she'd continued. "It was my glasses this morning. They reminded him of Miss Kringle. He's afraid he'll hurt me like he hurt her."

But Oswald had had enough. All pretense of courtesy faded like morning mist. He took one, solid step towards her. Their noses were inches apart. "Listen to me, you little idiot." He hissed heatedly. "I am telling you one last time: let. Ed. Go."

"No." Isabella replied calmly. "I will write to him, I will make him understand that he has nothing to fear. I'm not gonna let him go."

It was pointless, he saw, to continue this conversation. The fervor in those eyes, the stiffness in her posture, reminded him of a general about to lead his soldiers into battle. Nothing was going to distract her, or frighten her. Oswald could have easily abducted or beaten her, but that would probably only strengthen this desperate, pathetic union.

Oswald gave her a vicious smile. It was more bared teeth than anything else. "Very well. Don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

Daylight darkened into night. Many things unfolded during that time. Most of them, not very nice.

Edward did not take the news well. Thanking Oswald profusely, he escaped to cry in his room.

Oswald gave an order on the phone before climbing up the stairs. Then, he knocked on Ruby's door.

When she saw him there with the velvet pouch sitting in his hand, Ruby carefully questioned him. When his careful answers quelled her worry sufficiently, she accepted the token. The light in her eyes could light up any room. But the doubt, however minute, remained.

Edward, on the other hand, was summoned by Isabella. He went, ever the gallant fool. He didn't return or call right away.

Oswald spent the evening sipping cognac and trying to calm himself. The way Edward returned would determine a fate.

Just when he was about to drink himself into a light nap, the glass was gently pried out of his fingers. Looking up, he saw Ruby. Her face and hair were a burnt gold, painted by the fireplace's hungry flames. She was dressed in an ankle-length nightgown the color of ashes; beneath it, her robe was black with pale blue swans weaving through the threads. The necklace of gold and amber curled around her neck like a beautiful, friendly snake. She shook her head, though her gaze was soft. "When are you going to go easy on the alcohol?"

"When my problems evaporate." Oswald replied.

Ruby snorted as she sat down in the armchair in front of his. "Every time we deal with a problem, we create two more."

Oswald was quiet for a moment. 'We', she had said, not 'you'. He wondered if she could still hear his thoughts. Feel his emotions. But no. Barker had explained that such a link was only established after the primary fusion. Afterwards, their bodies and minds would get used to each other. Judging from Ruby's calm, yet worried expression, Oswald decided that Barker had spoken verily. Which was good. He liked the wacko. It would be a shame to execute him.

"Well," Oswald tried to reach for the bottle, "I suppose I'll be drinking for quite a while, then." Ruby snatched the bottle out of reach. Then, smirking, she reached out behind her. Her arm stretched out like a firefighter's hose, cutting through the five-foot room and resting the bottle on a shelf. One too high for Oswald to reach. Oswald scoffed, smiling. "In this moment, I'm almost relieved that my mother passed away; otherwise, in this moment I'd have _two_."

"Oh, you!" Ruby tossed the armchair's cushion at him. He caught it, chuckling. The two shared a laugh that brightened the room. But like all things, it came to an end. The room felt drafty as the doubt wriggled back in its place between them.

"Is there, uh, anything you didn't mention?" Ruby asked. "About your visit to Isabella?"

Oswald tried to look weary but instead felt terrified. "Do you have so little faith in me?"

"I have more faith in you than any god put together." Ruby replied bluntly. "But I know you well enough to know that your emotions go wild. And when they do, you toss reason and strategy out the window. It was like that with your chopping off Butch's hand, your rescue mission, Grace and her brats' murder-"

"You dumped the body in a pit about to be filled with cement." Oswald cut her off defensively. Indeed, no one had ever unearthed the truth about Grace Van Dahl's fate. She was still filed as a 'missing' person, as were her children. She would remain in that file forever.

"Because I knew ahead of time that the hole was there." Ruby answered. "Because I'd been walking that path for weeks, often carrying the dry cleaning. But what if I hadn't?"

Oswald was silent. Ruby had spoken harshly, but truthfully. He did let his emotions get the better of him. But upon reflection, Oswald decided that he would have much preferred that over being an apathic block of marble like Galavan had been.

He tried to look convincing as he spoke. "Ruby, I swear that everything occured as I explained two hours ago. I told Isabella that Edward wanted to terminate their farse of a relationship-"

"Did you say that?" Ruby asked queasily.

"You know I didn't." Oswald responded before continuing, "and she simply refused to see the light. That's all there is to it."

Ruby sighed. Closed her eyes. For a few beats, she was quiet. Then, she spoke. Her voice was low. "Oz...I'm tired of all the tension behind us. I'm tired of being nervous around you of all people. Of being distant. Of not communicating properly."

Oswald nodded to show that the feeling was mutual.

"So, if you do anything to this lady...I'll..." She swallowed, looking into his eyes, "I'll make sure no one knows."

Oswald didn't answer. He just stared.

"I'll be sure to bite your head off once we're alone," Ruby assured him, "but I'll still have your back. Even if you confess and give me evidence, I won't go to the police." She paused. "More importantly, I won't tell Edward."

Oswald could feel his eyes filling with tears.

"I know how much he means to you." She sighed. "If anything happens, I know he'll be heartbroken. But if it was you, he'll never know it from me." Ruby looked at him for a long moment, grabbing his gaze with hers and shaking it. "You have my word."

Oswald swallowed. "Did you not have the higher morals between us?"

"I guess," Ruby shrugged, "but if anything happened to you..." She sighed. "I'd rather spend the rest of my life back in my mother's attic than lose you."

Oswald was crying now. Silent, happy tears were sliding down his face. The mixture of joy, guilt, and appreciation filled his chest until he felt ready to explode. He held out his hand to her. She took it. He pulled her towards him, then took her face in his hands. Ruby froze, eyes wide. Oswald gently planted his lips on her forehead. Ruby felt her insides turn to butter. A kiss. A proper kiss. At last.

That was when the door clicked open.


	66. Chapter 65

Chapter 65

Oswald and Ruby separated, both their cheeks flushed, as a tall figure entered their line of sight.

"Ed!" Oswald exclaimed, both parts embarrassed and excited. Ruby quickly combed some hair over her face to hide its redness. Edward stopped at the sound of his nickname. His expression relaxed as he saw his friends. Relaxed, but still glowing. Ruby noticed immediately. She closed her eyes with a sigh.

Oswald kept his eyes trained on his love, trying to sound casual. "How'd she take it?"

"What?" For a second, Edward sounded genuinely clueless. Then, he brightened. "Oh, uh, everything is..." He sucked in air through his teeth. "...wonderful." He giggled like a schoolboy as he stepped further into the light. His face and suit were painted a vibrant orange. It matched the light in his eyes. "Isabella showed me that I was worried over nothing."

Something cracked in Oswald's expression, as though his face were a porcelain vase that had withstood too much pressure. Yet he managed to keep it together...somewhat. With some difficulty he rose, hobbled towards Edward, and gave him a tight hug. Edward returned the embrace, looking giddy. Ruby immediately felt regret pinch her heart like a crab's pincher. He was so... _happy_. Had she signed off that joy like an unwanted FedEx package by promising to stand by Oswald, no matter what action he takes? Of course, she still hoped that Oswald would not do anything, but...she rubbed her forehead, wanting more than anything to undo the last few minutes. Even though that spot just above her eyes was still tingling. Right where Oswald's soft lips had been.

"I'm so happy for you!" Oswald sounded like an amateur actor. It was a wonder that Edward didn't hear the phoniness. Well, that was easy: because he was too happy to be aware of anything beyond his own bliss. "But..." Oswald frowned. "Why are you back?" There was a subtle trace of bitterness in his voice.

"Oh, she had to go to her conference. I insisted." Edward smiled. Ruby placed a hand on her chest, moved by the man's sweetness.

"You're a good man." That, at least, sounded genuine. "But you look done in! I will hear all about it tomorrow." Oswald clapped a hand on Edward's arm. "Get some sleep."

Still smiling like a man who'd stumbled across a diamond cove, Edward stumbled out of sight. Ruby listened to his creaking footsteps fade. Even his movements sounded lovesick. She closed her eyes. As a result, she didn't see Oswald. The look on his face. She read the thoughts burning within those icy-blue orbs.

He knew that if he did indeed kill Isabella, Ruby would uphold her promise and keep it a secret. Why? Because she did not want Oswald to be hated by the very person that he most loved. She also knew that, as a full-grown adult, Oswald had to make his own decisions. But even if she did so, and never complained about it to his face, Oswald would feel it. Ruby would feel nothing but remorse from this night forward, torn between two different loyalties. She may even subconsciously hate him for putting her in this awful position. As if she did not have enough reason to hold a grudge already. Oswald had pushed her to suicide once. After that, he'd done or said something that had caused them to drift apart. If he involved her in this, it would be the final straw. Ruby would either leave and resent him, or feel that way while staying here.

Oswald would burn his empire to the ground before he'd let that happen.

That was why, when he turned around, he gave her a gentle smile. "Don't worry." He assured her. "I...I've grown tired of this war of love."

Ruby blinked. Slowly and deliberately, like a frog.

"I, too, see that Ed is happy. That is all I want, truly: his happiness." He let out a weak laugh. "Besides, Isabella has little going for her. Sooner or later, Edward will see what he's missing." He gave a theatrical gesture that made Ruby chuckle. Yet concern still lingered in those indigo eyes. "Are you sure?" She asked. "You're not just telling me what I want to hear?"

"Of course not." Oswald tried to convince himself as much as her. "But I do appreciate your pledge. Honestly, I..." He trailed off, smiling sincerely. "I would not be here without you."

Ruby waved him off. "Ah, yes you would." At last, an undiluted smile. Nodding, she gave him a quick, tight hug. "See you tomorrow." Her warm words tickled his ear. "And thank you. Really."

That was all the conviction that Oswald needed that he had done the right thing. Squeezing tightly, then letting go, he smiled at his friend. "You're welcome. And sweet dreams."

"I'll try." Ruby winked, then was gone. As she climbed up the steps, she reached into her pocket. Finding her cellphone, she extracted it. Flipping it open, she saw that her message had been sent. It had been read. The one that she'd sent in secret, to a number that she'd momentarily swiped Edward's phone to copy down. It simply read: _Beware the Penguin. If you need help, call this number_. While she doubted that this would hold any water, considering Isabella had stayed despite being threatened, Ruby had still felt compelled to at least try.

At the end of the day, we cannot persuade people to change their course. No matter how lethal, they long for it. The free will to choose.

Trying to accept this, Ruby disappeared in her bedroom, locking the door behind her.

Before the fireplace, alone, Oswald felt both relieved and saddened. Inhaling deeply, he slicked back his hair.

As if by magic, the hulking form of Gabe appeared in the doorframe. Good ol' Gabe. Oswald smirked at him. "Gotta give her credit. She fought for him. Too bad she underestimated her opponent."

Gabe said nothing. Just looked at him with those heavily-lidded eyes.

Quickly growing tired of such dull company, with anxiety closing in, Oswald asked, "I'm assuming it's done?"

Gabe reached into his pocket. His meaty fist emerged, a pair of dense scissors trapped within it. "Yup."

There was a dreadful finality to it. Oswald was ready to dismiss it when Gabe added, "Feel kinda bad though, boss. I always liked librarians."

Oswald narrowed his eyes at him. "You? What about poor Ed? He'll be heartbroken." Sighing, he added, "Well, at least he'll have a shoulder to cry on."

* * *

That night there was a screech. A train whistle. A scream. And finally, silence.


	67. Chapter 66

Chapter 66

The next morning dawned bright and cold. Birds chirped sleepily from within their twig nests. Squirrels scurried up their trees, their cheeks stuffed with nuts and seeds. The servants awoke at the crack of dawn, gathering the ripe fruits and vegetables from the gardens. Breakfast was served by the time Ruby descended the steps, wearing a striped purple sweater and baggy jeans. Around her neck hung a chain of lapis lazulis, deep blue speckled with gold. From her ears hung turquoise shaped like tears. In her hand, carefully wrapped in a lace handkerchief, was another stone.

She stopped at the dining room's entrance. Heart beating quickly, she took in the sounds of silverware clinking against porcelain. Too many to come from one person. Beaming, she gave the door a gentle knock before walking inside. "G'morning, colleagues."

Oswald looked up from his breakfast. Flashed her a smile. "Good morning to you."

Ruby plopped down between the two men. Setting to work on buttering herself some toast, she glanced at Edward. The man eyed his watch, then chewed his lips nervously. She was about to question him when Oswald beat her to it. "Everything okay?"

"Fine." Edward gave them both an unconvincing, close-lipped smile before quickly setting back to work.

"You've been checking your watch all morning." Oswald stated. "Are you waiting for-"

"A call from Isabella." Edward replied with a brief nod. "She's at her librarian conference."

"How exciting." Ruby muttered. When she saw Edward's shaking hand lift his mug, however, she dropped her toast and rubbed his shoulder. He flashed her a rapid, grateful simper.

"Well," Oswald said, "Librarian conferences can be hectic affairs."

"Not so much." Edward replied nervously, his eyes on his watch.

Oswald leaned forward slightly, his hands folded. " I'm sure that she'll call soon."

As if on cue, the phone shrieked. Ruby's eyebrows shot up as she munched on her toast. Edward looked at Oswald, who gave him a curious, smug expression. Rising, the tall man brushed off his green suit as he picked up the phone. "Hello?" The hope in his voice evaporated. His face clanged shut like a steel gate. "This is Ed Nygma." He stated cautiously. Ruby turned over in her chair, her brow crinkled. There was a tense, momentary silence before Edward growled, "Why?" Ruby spun back into place, caught Oswald's eye, and mouthed, _'What?'_

Oswald mouthed back, _'I don't know.'_ His feigned look of innocence must have been Oscar-worthy, for Ruby merely pressed her lips together as Edward gave a, "Very well," and hung up. "What's up?" She asked the green-clad man.

"That was the GCPD." Edward informed her, his eyes betraying his thousand thoughts. "They want to see me. Wouldn't say why."

Oswald felt his heart skip a beat. Quickly arranging his face into unassuming guiltlessness, he merely squeaked, "Oh?"

Edward walked back towards his chair, where he rested his hands. White fingers anxiously drummed against the chair's rosewood spine. Eyes flickered. Landed on familiar faces. "You don't think something happened?" Edward's voice was an octave higher than usual. Ruby swallowed, unsure of what to say, before simply shrugging. Oswald took longer to answer. He just stared up at Edward before letting out an exaggerated, "No!"

Ruby turned back to him, her eyes filled with questions.

* * *

It all happened in one fatal blow. Like a flash of blinding lightning. Or a tremor that splits a sidewalk in two.

One minute, there was just a concealed body on a metal slab. No different from the million others that have come and gone.

Then, in one fell swoop, the sheet was removed. Then, it wasn't just another stiffening corpse.

Edward made a noise as though his lungs had suddenly shriveled. Ruby covered her mouth with both ring-laden hands. Oswald did not react at all.

Lying on the metal table was a woman whose death had robbed her of beauty. Her skin had become a lifeless white, already tinged blue. Her body was as rigid as a stick doll, her lips the color of chalk. Her hair, dyed a familiar auburn, was disheveled and stuck to the scalp with blood. Half her face was a scarred ruin, all bloody tissue and puckered flesh.

Ruby, still covering her mouth, looked away shakily.

Oswald leaned towards a man's whispers, then proceeded towards his friend. Cautiously, as one would a wild animal. "They said Isabella drove past a red light and crashed into a train." His voice softened. "Yours was the last number on her phone." Edward let out a broken little sigh. Ruby walked up behind him. Took his wrist. Squeezed hard. Edward kept his eyes shut, lest the tears come spilling. Regaining control of himself was like trying to piece together a shattered china vase. Yet in the end, he recuperated some semblance of composure. "Did she suffer?" He whispered.

Oswald looked down at the body. He may as well have been examining a cut of sirloin. "No."

Ruby inhaled shakily through her teeth. "I'm so sorry, Ed." She said honestly. Unable to handle another second, the first deputy mayor exited the room. Oswald glanced after her before taking a deep breath. How many times had he imagined being alone with this man? This wonderful, amazing, brilliant man? This little, concentrated piece of perfection?

Oswald spoke softly. Tenderly. From the heart...but not too much. "Anything you need, Ed. Anything at all...I am here for you."

The damn behind Edward's eyes crumbled. Turning around slowly, like a sleepwalker, he trapped Oswald into a desperate hug. Eyes bulging, pulse racing, Oswald quickly returned the embrace. As Edward stared lifelessly ahead of him, Oswald sighed blissfully. Trying to take in all in, every scent and sensation. Like a delicious wine that he'd crossed the desert to taste.

* * *

The next few days passed by like water and oil. There was Oswald, who practically skipped everywhere he went despite his bum knee. Then, there were Ruby and Edward: Ruby, who lost her appetite and became gray in the face, and Edward, who spent the days locked up in his room grieving his lost love. Oswald tried to cheer both of them up, to no avail. Even his cheer soon faded into the house's gray atmosphere.

Ruby was forced to suffer in silence due to her conflicting loyalties. On one hand, she could not tell Edward what was troubling her because doing so would make him wonder why she had warned Isabella to beware the Penguin. On the other hand, she could not force a smile and go about her life. Everywhere she went, she felt as though Isabella's ghost was following her. Accusing her of letting the poor woman die.

Edward was even worse off. At least Ruby, despite eating little, still consumed _something_. A granola bar for breakfast. Half a sandwich at lunch. The Chief of Staff hardly touched food anymore. Even with the door locked, his wailing could be heard from nearly any point of the house.

This was all wrong, Oswald felt. This was supposed to be the part where the obstacle was removed, and everything fixed itself. Instead, looking around, he would have almost gone back to having the harlot around. At least then, Ed would be happy.

All of these thoughts circulated his mind as he stood before the sunny window. Having decided to take advatage of the fine morning, he'd summoned an artist to paint a portrait of him in all his glory. Such was the tradition of all great men: to be immortalized in oil and canvas, captured in a noble moment. He had even slipped into his best suit -black, with a white shirt and a deep purple tie - for the occasion. There was a white rose in the breast pocket and the zircon stone hung from his neck. Oswald posed carefully as he felt himself being studied by the painter. Every detail dissected, memorized, and copied.

He glimpsed at Ruby and felt his heart sink a little further. They had been in the same room for hours now, and she had barely spoken to him. She was curled up like a cat in one of the armchairs, dressed in a purplish-red sweater and baggy black jeans, the cuffs rolled up. A string of rose quartz, ranging from soft to bubblegum in shades of pink, sat on her collarbone. Rutile shards hung from her ears. Ruby looked just like her old self...if one excluded the dark circles under her eyes. Those haunted, indigo eyes travelled down the pages of Neil Gaiman's _American Gods_.

Muffled classical music ate at Oswald's nerves like termites in rosewood. Sighing, he dropped his pose. "Would you excuse me for a moment?" Without waiting for the artist's reply, he marched off towards the sound. It blossomed to headache-inducing proportions as he entered one of his studies. A record player wailed Italian opera while Edward lay half-buried under a blanket.

"Ed?" Oswald had to yell in order to be heard.

There was a moment's pause. Then, "Yes?"

Oswald pointed. "The music!"

Edward rose. "It's too loud. I'm sorry." Abruptly, the music died. The dead air hung, almost expectantly. The tall man sighed. "Isabella always loved Vivaldi."

Oswald, trying to keep his temper in check, asked, "So, you are just going to sit here?"

"Yes." It was barely more than a whisper.

"All by yourself?" Oswald continued.

"Correct." Edward muttered.

Oswald wanted to scream. Kick the damned record player and smash the black disc into smithereens. Grab Edward by his shirt and shake the sorrow out of him. Instead, he spat out, "Fine."

Only to return a moment later.

"Ed, I as much as anyone, know how hard it is to lose someone. Even if you've only known them for, like..." Oswald, unable to recollect exactly when this nightmare had started, blurted out, "a couple of months. But this is not healthy behavior. It is depressing...and if I'm being honest, a bit scary." Those final words bled him more than scalpels ever could. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Edward. But if this could snap him out of this depressed stupor, perhaps it would prove to be a necessary evil.

Edward looked up at him. His brown eyes were as flat and lifeless as chunks of driftwood. "Less scary. Check."

"No, you're not..." Oswald shook his head, trying to stay in control, when he picked the next-best phrase. "Ed, you need to heal. And healing is about moving on."

Edward was still for a moment. Then, he sat up. Staring out thoughtfully. "No doubt you're right." He croaked.

Oswald, finally seeing a tiny ray of light, smiled. "Of course I'm right."

Edward shrugged the blanket off. Still staring out into space, he spoke with more determination than he had in days. "I'll go to where she was taken from me, and say goodbye."

Oswald's throat constricted. He would have objected, but a feminine voice rose from behind him. "I'll come with you." Turning, he saw Ruby standing in the doorway, her expression a mixture of confidence and empathy. Sensing his eyes on her, Ruby gave Oswald a soft smile. Reaching out, she took his hand. "Don't worry, we'll be home before nightfall." She turned back to Edward. "Right, Ed?"

Edward's eyes filled with tears. His lower lips quibbled. He nodded.

* * *

The railroad tracks were clean.

No blood. No new markings. It was as if Isabella's lethal accident had never transpired. It was a cruel joke, giving Edward the false impression that, maybe, his love was still alive. Trying not to break into fresh tears, he knelt down and placed the fresh lillies onto the tracks. Ruby, buttoned up in her coat against the chilly afternoon wind, eyed the flowers. They had been Edward's choice. She remembered an old phrase that the Master's mother used to say about lillies: "Quick to ripe, quick to rot." In a sense, this made them the most suited blossoms for Isabella.

"Gotham...such a strange city." Edward whispered. Ruby couldn't tell if he was talking to her, or to himself. "Where else would someone as wicked as, say, Galavan live...while a being as pure as Isabella perishes?"

Ruby closed her eyes. "I'm really sorry, Ed. I know how hard it is to move on after you've lost someone."

Edward turned to her with big, surprised eyes. "You do?"

Ruby cracked a smile. Nodded. "I lost my Master. He fed me, clothed me, took me in when my own parents wouldn't." She swallowed. Hard. "I miss him every single day, and I think about him all the time." A single tear ran down her cheek. Hot, then cold. "But...he's never coming back." She looked at Edward. "That fact can seem impossible to accept."

Edward stared at her for a long minute. "I'm..." He gave a weak laugh. "I don't know why, but I'm surprised you're capable of understanding how I feel."

"More than you know." Ruby assured him. "There's nothing wrong with crying over someone you've loved, Ed. It just means they meant something to you, and their absence makes you sad." She shook her head. Hearing this, she could already predict her future. Her mother would die cursing her. And when Ruby's time came, the only one to truly mourn her would be Oswald...and even then, he wouldn't mourn her with half the passion he would should Edward die. Immediately regretting these thoughts, Ruby buried them. She offered Edward a weak smile. And her hand. For perhaps the first time, she truly offered him her hand.

For perhaps the first time, Edward truly accepted it.

There was a flash. Two shadows merged into one. Then, the light faded.

Panting, gasping, the figure stood on shaky feet. Tried to take a step, stumbled, and dropped to its knees. "Wha...what the...?" The croak was neither male nor female. Blinking hard as their vision adjusted, the eyes found a murky puddle. Made out a figure.

Screaming, the figure jolted back. Then, stopped. Took a deep breath.

It was a figure taller than Ruby, but shorter than Edward. Straight hair slicked back, like Edward's, but streaked in fair highlights. Rutile earrings hung from the lobes. The face was long with high cheekbones, but possessed soft, pink lips and a simple, straight nose. The glasses had grown even larger, taking up nearly half of the new face. Behind the lenses, two pairs of eyes peered out at the world: one was sardonyx-brown, the other was dark blue.

The figure looked down. It was more feminine than anything else, with only the broad shoulders echoing Edward's slender figure. But at the elbows, two lower arms sprouted from each one, like miniature conjoined twins. The figure held up their arms in fascination before examining its clothes. It wore a cross of Ruby and Edward's wardrobe: Edward's silken trousers and coat, with Ruby's reddish-purple sweater and jewelry.

"Wow, I just...wow." The figure...Rubard...was silent for a moment, then smiled. Their voice deepened. "No wonder you and Oswald love doing this so much."

That was when a homeless man approached them, holding out a paper cup.

That moment would change everything.


	68. Chapter 67

Chapter 67

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, catching fire, it turned the saloon into the inside of a burning coal. The hazy crimson shade added to the completed painting, still sitting on the easle as it dried. A velvet drape protected it from the fading light...and any premature peeking. Oswald stood before it, chin in hand, his critical eye sweeping over the portrait. Hoping that his gesture would prove fruitful.

The front door's creak snapped him out of his thoughts.

Spinning around, Oswald was slapped by an unexpected sight. A figure marched towards him. Taller than Ruby, but shorter than Ed. Brown hair slicked back, with fair highlights. An average, feminine figure with more masculine shoulders. Two sets of eyes. Two sets of lower arms, a duo growing from the end of each elbow.

The figure blurred, as did everything around it.

"You fused." Oswald's mouth felt as though he'd gargled bleach.

The figure stopped in their tracks. All four of their eyes - two sardonyx-brown, two indigo - widened to the size of billiard balls. Without a word they were encased in light. A moment later, Edward and Ruby were standing before him. Edward groaned, rubbing his temples, while Ruby took a few, frantic steps towards Oswald. While his first impulse was to back away, the look in his friend's eye made Oswald stop. He did, however, wipe his eyes as she spoke. "I swear," Ruby said, "it just happened. We didn't just say, 'let's merge'. It just happened, I _swear._ " Her frantic tone killed any anger that'd formed within Oswald's heart. But the shock and hurt had yet to fade. In spite of this, he forced a smile and took Ruby's hand. "It's alright." He assured her. "It...it will be at least." Seeing her facial expression, he added, "I'm not angry, I...simply need time to digest this."

Ruby nodded. Then, recollection flashed within her eyes. "We need to tell you something."

"Yes, I'm sure." Oswald squeezed Ruby's hand. "But I have to show you something first. Ed?"

"This is important!" Edward snapped impatiently.

"So is this." Oswald gestured for both of his friends to come closer. Facing Edward, he spoke earnestly. "I was not compassionate this morning, and I regret that." Edward chewed the inside of his cheek as Oswald continued, "What you are going through is terrible. So..." Oswald halted, unsure of how to proceed, before simply tearing down the drape. When Edward did not face it right away, a nervously-grinning Oswald gestured towards it. With a sigh Edward complied. For a moment, he just stood before the portrait. Then, he frowned and leaned forward. His eyes widened. "You put me in your painting?"

Ruby was next to lean forward. She bristled at the sight of a smiling Edward in the background, all dolled up in his signature green suit. Trying to hide her pain, Ruby began to slink away. Sensing her movement, Oswald gently tightened his hold on her hand. "Wait." He whispered. "Look closer at my own figure. Does it look familiar?"

Frowning, Ruby turned to the oil-on-canvas rendering of her friend. For an instant, she did not fully see what he meant. Then, she gasped. The ends of Oswald's inky hair were curled. His face was rounder, the chin less pronounced. His eyes, still icy-blue, were rimmed indigo near the iris. Painted Oswald was also a bit taller than his flesh-and-blood counterpart. But the part that warmed Ruby the most was the jewelry painted in fantastic detail: there was the zircon sitting neatly on his tie's knot. And there, on the fist upon his chest, was a small ring with her namesake clasped between the iron bands.

Ruby slowly turned from the painting to the real thing, who was looking at her hopefully. Yet his expression wilted when he saw the tears filling her eyes. "What is it?" He asked anxiously. "Have I upset you-?" He'd barely finished when Ruby's arms wrapped around him. A nanosecond later, he found himself encased in Ruby's watery perfume of lemons and honey. The cold stones around her neck and hanging from her ears brushed against his skin. Without a moment's hesitation he returned her embrace. "Thank you." Ruby whispered in his ear, her voice a bit hoarse. They held onto each other for a few more heartbeats before finally pulling apart. Just in time for Edward to drop a bomb: "Isabella was murdered."

Oswald's eyes grew to the size of kiwi. His pleased smile slipped off his face like a veil. "What?"

"We went to the intersection where she died." Edward explained. "And it is four blocks from her apartment." He held up the correct amount of digits. "Who falls asleep four blocks away from their home? No one! Also, a very fragrant homeless man said he heard screaming before the crash. So, definitely not asleep."

Oswald could only stare in horror as everything he'd built crumbled away like a house of soggy cards. He listened, increasingly desperate, as Edward asked why Isabella didn't hit the brakes, and why were there no skin-marks. Each question was a feathered dart flying into the balloon that was his world. The perfect world that he had killed to preserve. "Ed, you are exhausted, and emotional-"

Edward held up two severed wires. "The brake-lines were cut! Which leaves one conclusion: murder."

Oswald shook his head, trying to seem amused by the notion. "No!"

"Yes!" Edward replied. His hands dropped. "And I know who did it!"

All of the color (what little there was) drained from Oswald's face in one fell swoop. Ruby, fearing that he may faint, Swallowing hard, he asked, "Who?"

Edward's face rippled. Twitched. His eyes burned with a hatred that turned Oswald's insides to tar. Finally, he spat out the name as though it were poison: "Butch."

Oswald closed his eyes, struggling to breathe, before echoing his love's words. "Butch?"

"As retaliation for exposing him as the leader of the Red Hood gang." Edward swallowed hard. Sweat shone on his forehead and upper lip. His eyes shone feverishly behind those large glasses. He was like a bull being held back by chains, but not for long.

Oswald did not want that rage directed at him. He would have rather died. Nodding quickly, he said, "That makes perfect sense! I swear to you, Ed: he will pay for what he's done."

Edward stared at Oswald. Those feverish eyes were now overrun with tears. "Thank you." He choked out. "I knew I could count on you."

* * *

Not long after that, Edward retired for the night. He needed to be fully-rested for what was to come soon. Ruby hated the sound of that, especially when knowing what he was planning to do. She had sat there, barely speaking, while Oswald and Edward plotted their revenge. Ruby had tried bringing out some gems to distract herself, but even her most precious jewels could not tear her attention away. Perhaps this was due to her utterly helpless situation.

On one hand, Ruby had not forgotten the kindness that Butch had briefly shown her. He had been one of the few people under Oswald's employ to treat her with amicability rather than simply fear. But on the other hand, Ruby knew what Isabella had meant to Edward. His words, as well as the emotions she had inherited from their fusion, had made it all too clear that Edward had lost his true love twice. She already knew that if someone took Oswald away from her, she would not rest until that person died screaming. What right had she to deny Edward his vengeance?

Sighing, Ruby put away her sapphires. Leaned back in her pillows, wishing that they could swallow her. She closed her eyes, willing it despite its futility.

That was when a knock resounded in her attic bedroom. Followed by a soft voice through the wood. "Ruby?"

Ruby straightened, blushing. "Just a minute!" She quickly fastened her bathrobe as tightly as she could, having loosened it earlier on the bed. Beneath, she wore a nightgown that she buttoned closed. Then, she ran an impatient hand through her hair in a poor attempt to make it neater. Deciding that this was as good as she was going to get, Ruby stretched her arm out. It cut across three feet and reached the door handle. With a squeak and a creak, the door opened. Oswald was there, also dressed for bed. Ruby tried to control her blush. The last time that they had been in a bedroom together, the situation had escalated. Ruby wanted to think that it was all behind them now. "Hey." She greeted him in a low voice.

Oswald gave a feeble smile. "Hello." He stood there for a moment, cane in hand, before gesturing to the bed. "May I?"

Ruby hesitated for a second before nodding. "Sure thing." She scooted to make room for her friend. He sat down, wincing at the applied pressure to his knee. They sat in silence for a minute. Oswald seemed to stare off into the void. Ruby knew better than to interrupt his ponderings. Who knew what thoughts dwelt behind those icy eyes? She had just contemplated grabbing a book when Oswald spoke, "Do you...think I'm a good person?"

Ruby stopped. Frowned. "Where did _that_ come from?"

Oswald looked at her. Terror flickered across his pale, angular visage. "Is that a 'no'?"

"No," Ruby answered, "it's a 'where did that come from?' You've never asked me anything like that before."

"Because I was, well, certain that I did not care. I knew who I was, and that was enough." Oswald drummed his fingers against his cane. "But now...I just want... _need_ to know, Ruby." He looked at her with such earnest fear that it stung her heart. "What do you think of me, Ruby? And please be honest."

Ruby gave him a skeptical look. "If I tell you, say, ten positive things and one negative," she began, "do you promise not to focus on the single negative thing?"

Oswald nodded.

Ruby sucked in air through her teeth. Sat up. Oswald mimicked her, steeling himself. Ruby smiled. "Number one: you have a natural charisma."

Oswald's cheeks reddened. "Ah, come off it."

"You do!" Ruby assured him. "I mean, the campaign? That was ten percent intimidation, ten percent charity work, and eighty percent speech. You blew everyone away with your discussions, the voters and the officials. You could've gone against Michael Jackson and won."

Oswald contemplated her words for a moment before cracking a crooked smile. "I was quite the wordsmith, was I not?"

And so it went on. Ruby slathered Oswald in compliments, going over each one meticulously. He, in turn, either tried to initially deny them or flat-out agreed. While he would never know, he had done her a favor. Ruby had long-since given up writing down her secret emotions in diaries. Her thoughts simply went too quickly for her pen to follow. As a result, she simply had to carry her feelings for Oswald like a heavy backpack, constantly causing aches to her back and shoulders. But now, it was like he was asking her to lighten the load, if only a little. To share. That was, she decided, even better than loving someone: being able to share it with them.

At last, the list was concluded. Oswald leaned back as though he'd eaten a bountiful meal. "Let me see if I understand, then," he began to count off each positive trait with his fingers, "according to you, I am dominated by my emotions. However, I am also charismatic, intelligent, elegant, surgical, confident, ambitious, funny at times, accurate, and...er..." He trailed off, "what was that, when you compared me to chocolate?"

Ruby sniggered. "You're like a chocolate candy: hard and crunchy on the outside, but really sweet and tender on the inside."

Oswald reddened. "No, I'm not!"

"You are with those who are loyal to you." Ruby pointed out. "You're unbelievably generous and kind with Edward and I. You treat us like prized jewels, and I know how those are treated." She smiled gently. "And your mother...from what you've told me, and from what I've felt when we're Cobblair...you loved her more than words can describe. It killed you when she died, and for a while you considered joining her." Ruby shook her head. "Oz...you've got a heart the size of France. You just don't show it to everyone, and I can't say I blame you."

Oswald looked ready to cry now. He nodded numbly. "Thank you." The words were little more than whispers.

Ruby reached out and squeezed his bony shoulder. "You still haven't told me why you asked." When Oswald didn't answer, Ruby leaned forward. Peering into his face. "Is it because Ed and I-?"

"No!" Oswald looked shocked. "I can't tell you how happy I am that you two have reached that point. Considering that you wanted to strangle each other during the first couple of weeks, I'd say this is amazing progress. But..." He broke off, looked away. His voice grew smaller. More childlike. "I...sort of miss being the only one you had ever fused with." It got even tinier. "I felt special."

Ruby was quiet for a moment. Then, she leaned forward and took Oswald's face in her hands. Icy-blue met indigo. "You are, and always will be, special to me." She said firmly. "No one in my life even compares to you. The only one who comes close is Master, but I saw him more as some kind of god: someone to be grateful towards, someone you owe everything to, someone untouchable and yet loving. But you...you're so much more than that. You're my best friend. And yes, there are days when I want to throw you out the window-"

"Same." Oswald chuckled.

"-But that doesn't change how I feel about you overall. Just because I fused with Ed doesn't mean he's taken your place." Ruby's eyes shone. "No one could ever take your place."

Oswald stared into her eyes. Once again wishing that he could control his emotions to that extent. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her. She returned the embrace, not fully understanding what it was for.

She was his anchor in this drowning sea of lies.


	69. Chapter 68

Chapter 68

The next few days saw the most panic in the streets since the release of Arkham's 'monsters. So many things happened at once, Ruby had a difficult time keeping up. One of Falcone's men was left in a car that blew up shortly afterwards. Voices were rising that an old enemy of the Don's had orchestrated the attack. People began to grow scared. After all, if the former king of the city could barely evade death, what hope did they have?

The city shivered. Oswald grinned.

Ruby leaned against Oswald's tall mirror, which was framed in voluptuous angels and grinning satyrs. Today's jewels of choice was citrine. No larger than olive pits, they hung from her lobes and graced her collarbone. They varied in shade from juicy lemon to russet. Said to be a protection against snake venom and evil thoughts, they offered their owner a much-needed shroud of comfort.

Oswald, on the other hand, looked like he had no need for citrines. He looked as proud as a father and as confident in his own skin as a model. Ruby watched, worried yet fascinated, as her friend pieced together a fine suit. Trousers and jacket as black as sin, with a tie streaked with blue, turquoise, purple, and white. The zircon stone sat right on the tie's knot, like a pearl within an oyster.

Smirking, Ruby crossed her arms. "Any reason you're so perky today?"

"The people are terrifed." Oswald stated as if this explained everything. Ruby waited for a moment, meeting only silence, before asking, "And?"

Oswald stopped what he was doing - pinching his cheeks in an attempt to give them a rosier hue - and sighed like he was dealing with a small, unintelligent child. Ruby let it slide only because she knew that he didn't mean it. She had been in his head enough times to know. "When people are afraid," Oswald spoke, "they will turn to anyone who offers a solution. I intend to provide that solution, along with Gotham's head families of crime. We will increase the fees on security, ensure that the streets are better guarded...and when the dark times have passed, the people shall remember under whose shield they took shelter." Oswald chuckled. "Adults are no better than children, really: give them what they desire, and they are content."

Ruby looked at Oswald for a long moment. At that beak-like nose. Thin face. Bright blue eyes that analyzed the world. A familiar ache weighed down her heart, along with the knowledge that, should her friend be right, she would never be content.

Oswald turned to her. His professional mask cracked, revealing the man who was more vulnerable than he would ever let on. "You will attend," he said, "right?" The slight tremor in his voice made Ruby want to take him in her arms. But of course she didn't. Instead, she reached out and stroked his cheek. His skin felt slightly greasy, but nevertheless cool and smooth. "You couldn't keep me out if you tried."

Oswald took her hand and brought it to his lips. He had done this many times, but it still sent hot bolts of electricity buzzing up Ruby's spine. Once their contact broke, she felt strangely hollow. Trying to smile, she asked, "So. When will Butch be...well, trialed?"

Oswald, satisfied with his appearance, turned to her. "That is up to Ed, not I. Whatever he wishes to do, I shall support him."

"So will I." Ruby nodded, then hesitated. "Still."

Oswald cocked a thin, ebony brow. "Still?"

"Well..." Ruby sighed. "I know it sounds dumb. But Butch...for a while, he was kind to me. I just...I find it hard to believe he'd kill an innocent woman, even if it was for revenge."

Oswald felt ice pricking the inside of his stomach. Quickly freezing it. Trying to quell his terror before it showed, he took Ruby's hand again. "Ruby, sometimes I fear that you forget what I am capable of, too."

"How can I?" Ruby asked. "I've helped you commit some of those acts."

"Yes," Oswald replied, "but I don't go around stabbing people when we are watching films, or chatting, or reading together before the fireplace. I am just...me. A softer part of me that requires no weapons. I do, however, harbor a darker side that is armed to the teeth. We all need one in this city, if we are to make it past infanthood."

Ruby suddenly froze. Just for a second, she remembered one of her first days in Arkham. Back when she'd still thought that her parents would return. Eventually, an orderly had gotten so fed up of her lamenting that he'd grabbed her by the collar and yelled in her face.

 _"Look, bitch, there's nothing about you that a parent would want."_

 _"That's not true! They...they said they'd come back!"_

 _"Work it out for yourself. Ever wonder why there's nobody else around who looks like a melting ice cream? Ever wonder why you're so_ unique _in that way? It's because kids born of incest aren't supposed to be, well, born. You're considered crimes against nature. Especially here in Gotham. The weak can't survive anyway, so why wait? We kill things like you as soon as you're born. We don't let you leave the nursery."_

 _"You're lying!"_

 _"The only reason they let you live this long is because they hoped you'd end up looking as gorgeous as they think they are. Guess they were wrong!"_

Ruby shook her head, shivering. "Sorry, got...sidetracked for a second. But...yeah, I get it." She sighed again. "I guess I just don't want Butch to get hurt." She gave an ironic laugh. "Funny, huh? Even though Ed's convinced of Butch's guilt...I don't hate the guy."

"Yes, funny." Oswald squeezed her hand without looking her in the eye. If she saw, she'd know.

Ruby sighed. "I guess I'm just a softie."

"You are." Oswald agreed. "But your good heart is a breath of fresh air, admist all this wickedness."

"Ah," Ruby blushed, waving him off, "shut up." Despite her thin smile, deep inside she ached.

* * *

A special room was used for the meeting. It was a cold, stuffy chamber deprived of the rest of the mansion's homey, cozy feel. Such was its purpose. Many years ago, the Master had held his own encounters here. That is, until his mother died and he closed himself off from said associates. Simply being here reminded Ruby of him, despite the turf holding none of his belongings. Its walls were as gray as ashes, with the floors covered in soot-colored carpets. There was a large, polished oak table in the center of the den, with a total of twelve chairs pushed against it. A couple of potted orchids sat along the shelves, nestled amongst texts of law and religion. A few portraits had been hung here and there, but their colorful canvases only made the rest of the office seem more drab.

As always, Ruby stood beside Oswald as he spoke to the heads of the families. Saying nothing. Hardly needing to. Oswald kept his slender hands planted on the table's polished wood, looking equal parts relaxed and dominating. The five paterfamilias sat in their chairs, silent as the art pieces hanging from the walls, listening as Oswald explained the situation. Until, of course, he suggested a fifty-percent increase in protection fees. Then, they laughed. It was the first merriment that the room had heard in a while.

Nor was it alone.

"Sounds a little steep to me."

Heads turned to find the elegant Barbara Kean entering the room, all black leather and dark furs. Her short blonde hair was swept over the side, exposing one very expensive-looking diamond earring. She looked as smiling and cold as an ice sculpture. "What do we have here? A little family reunion?" She tilted her head. "My invitation get lost in the mail?"

Ruby was about to speak diplomatically when Oswald beat her to it. "No. This is a meeting for grown-ups. So, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." A sharp nudge in the ribs had him looking back at Ruby, who shook her head. Of the two, Oswald was the larger lion; but even a smaller feline possesses claws. Barbara smirked before extracting a pistol from her purse. She pointed it at Oswald's face. "Quick question!"

The heads of the families jumped to their feet. Guns clacked as they rose. Ruby, in turn, had her nails grow as long and as sharp as daggers. Her teeth soon followed.

"Is it 'how do I commit suicide'?" Oswald asked tersely, his entire body stiff. "Because that answer is coming."

"Tabitha and Butch are missing. Where are they?" Barbara aimed the gun at Oswald's heart. Ruby quickly moved in front of him. The blonde woman, annoyed, tried to find a gap in which her target resided. Ruby only inflated her form until it was like spotting a pebble behind a boulder. Oswald, however, would never cower behind someone else - not with so many influential people watching. He stepped out from behind Ruby, who quickly shrank back to her normal size. Giving her a quick, grateful smile, he reverted his attention to Barbara. Scowling. "I have no idea. I have not seen Butch since his little summerstalk revival of the Red Hood Gang."

"Let's cut the crap, shall we?" Barbara's smile was as deadly as her weapon. "Tabitha has been helping Butch hide since your little victory celebration. They're an item now. Barf. She's supposed to check in every night, and she hasn't. She's not answering her phone, and no one has seen her."

Ruby closed her eyes. Sighing. So, the time had come.

"And you think I took them." Oswald stated.

" _Obviously_." Barbara hissed.

"Barbara," the gun moved from Oswald to Ruby, who didn't so much as flinch, "I don't want to do this. I'm sorry that your friends are missing. Really." Her expression hardened. "But if you try to shoot Oswald-"

"Yeah, I get it. You'll defend your little boyfriend to your last freakin' breath." Barbara rolled her eyes. She didn't see Oswald's eyes bug out. "You're wasting your time, sweetie. You could burn his name in the moon and he still wouldn't-"

"Barbara!" Ruby's shout was full of both embarrassment and anger. "I'm not kidding! If you try to shoot, I'll make sure you can never shoot anything again."

Barbara laughed. "Stubborn to the end."

"How about this," Oswald interrupted, his eyes on Barbara, "you lower your gun, beg my forgiveness for this gross insubordination, apologize to Ruby for such a lack of respect, and I may let you walk about of here alive." Barbara glared at Oswald. He glared back. The room stood still. All weapons were raised, as were the stakes. Everyone was ready to kill. Even Oswald, who lacked a weapon, would be more than happy to grab one of the chairs and use it to bash the intruder's head in. Guns were pointed at living flesh. The air froze. Everything lost meaning. Everything except for the fundamental question: who would shoot first?

As luck would have it, the answer was: no one. The squealing of a tray's wheels steadily grew louder until it passed the room's entrance. All heads spun to find Olga, sweet, rotund Olga, pushing in a cart loaded with liquors. Immediately seeing the stand-off, she muttered something in her native tongue that sounded like a question. Barbara looked at her for a second, contemplating, before putting away the gun. She smiled like a pageant queen. "My apologies." She said sweetly. "They must have run off somewhere without telling me."

Ruby's hands returned to normal. But not her teeth. Not yet.

Oswald smiled tightly as the rest of the guns, too, were put away. "Love." He said. "Makes you do crazy things, doesn't it?" As his smile slid off his face like melting snow, he hobbled towards the intruder. She welcomed it. Lowering his voice, Oswald spoke in a stern, yet calm tone. "We have a history, you and I. But if you ever point a gun at me again, Ruby and I shall show you how powerful we can be. And then, Olga will be cleaning your brains off the floor." His eyes became icy slits. "She's a real _whiz_ with stains."

Barbara gave a dark smile. "Bye, Pengy." She spun around. Her curly hair whipped Oswald in the face. She clomped away on her high heels, hips swaying and arms at her sides. Totally at ease. Oswald tried to breathe steadily, even as fury burned inside him like lava. Ruby's arms around him helped douse some of the flames. He could smell her. Wildflowers and almond oil. He closed his eyes, soothing himself with her scent and warmth. "It's okay." She whispered in his ear. "I'd have died before I let her hurt you."

Oswald's hands found hers. "I hope you never do."


	70. Chapter 69

Chapter 69

Somewhere far from the Van Dahl mansion, a phone began to ring. Its shrill cry was ignored for exactly two seconds before concentration was lost...and so was comprehension. After all, only one person had the number to that telephone.

The third ring was interrupted.

"Are you checking up on me?" Edward Nygma asked, befuddlement leaking into the phone's speaker.

"What?" Oswald frowned. "No." He looked around, ensuring that Ruby was not in the nearby area. "Barbara Kean was just here. She's looking for them."

"So?" Edward asked, his tone as blank as a clean sheet.

"So," Oswald echoed with a hint of irritation, "are you finished yet?"

"We've talked about this." Edward chided. "I need to work through my grief, my way."

"Of course, and I support you." Oswald replied. "Any chance you could work through it a smidge faster? I am swamped today."

 _Clunk!_

The receiver was slammed back into place. Oswald stared at the phone, distraught, while Edward turned back to his two guests. Smirking. "Sorry you had to hear that. He can be so self-centered." Placing his hands on his hips, he asked, "What were we talking about?" Bound to two chairs in front of him were nobody else but Butch Gilzean and Tabitha Galavan, both gagged by his newfound tools. Both of them were sweating and disheveled from the ordeal. Well, one should say the 'prologue' of the ordeal. The real action had yet to come. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, indeed.

Butch yelled something at Edward from behind his gag. Edward raised his arms. "Oh! Right, how I found you!" Laughing, he pushed a heavy cart closer towards them. As he did, he coughed at the additional intake of stale air. This place truly was miserable. A forgotten little attic, probably at one point a blacksmith's place, that was now occupied by rusting weapons and dust bunnies. The windows were so thick with grime that there had been no need to add curtains to the already desolate decor.

His new toys were the best thing about the chamber. Well, at least until blood started to flow.

"Well, it wasn't hard." Edward finally reached his destination. He took a moment to stroke the trolley's contents: heavy electric generators, each one powerful enough to keep an apartment lit for days. "The next time you want to disappear, considering taking sabbatical from your favorite restaurant. Your love for Italian food isn't exactly a state secret." He placed a metal ring, its wires leading back to the generators, onto Butch's shaved scalp. "That, and a healthy dose of midazolam to knock you out, a hundred bucks to your delivery boy, who, by the way," Edward leaned forward like a bartender, "I get the feeling been being tipped very well, _Butch_."

Butch said something, but once again the gag made his words impossible to understand.

Smirking, Edward stepped out from behind the trolley and put his ear in the vicinity of the big man's muffled words. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He un-gagged Butch, who hissed, "You're gonna regret this." His voice deepened with rage. "You touch one hair on her head, I'll kill you."

"Save your strength, big guy." Edward patted the other man's stubbly cheek in an almost affectionate manner. "You're gonna need it." He rose, examining the wires and the generators. Ensuring that everything was ready. Butch, blinded by his anger, spat out, "You tell Penguin he's a coward! If he wants me dead, he should come here and do it like a man!"

All was ready, just as Edward had sensed. Feeling as calm and prepared as a composer about to lead the orchestra into musical ecstasy, he glided his way back to Butch. Pointed at him like a king weeding out a traitor. "This has... _nothing_ to do with Penguin." He leaned towards Butch. Glared down at him. "And ** _you_** are the coward, killing an innocent woman."

"What?" Butch asked, brow furrowing. "Who?"

His dumb insolence only blackened Edward's rage. Speaking in low growls, the Chief of Staff answered. "Isabella. She was my everything and you took her from me!"

Butch shook his head helplessly. "What in the _hell_ are you talkin' about?"

Edward straightened, his brown eyes never leaving Butch's doughy face. A mad smirk tickled his pink lips. "I was hoping you'd be difficult." He looked down at the gangster like he was a Christmas present that Edward couldn't wait to tear open.

He pushed a button.

Golden sparks flew. Butch screamed. Edward laughed.

* * *

The open-air market.

While some may view it as little more than a gypsy's hovel, where cheap, worthless items are sold at absurd prices, those who actually bothered to go knew that there were plenty of valuables lurking beneath the layers of junk. Under a rusty, dull-edged bear's trap was a small eagle cut from jade. Just behind the ugly copper frying pans were African necklaces and bracelets of colored beads and yellowed fangs. Overlooking the cracked ceramic salad bowls were lamps made from hollowed-out chunks of soap. Beauty was everywhere; it just wasn't always evident.

Ruby knew that as well as anyone. She had been a regular visitor for years, ever since the Master had first asked her to tag along. That day, she remembered, he'd bought a rare peregrine falcon (yes, at times even living creatures could be found here) that he'd then given to an animal shelter. Since that fateful occasion, Ruby had come by whenever it took her fancy.

Today was one such day. She certainly needed cheering up, and maybe buying a new trinket would provide.

Dressed in one of Oswald's midnight-blue overcoats (he had so many of them, and all of hers had been in the washing machine), Ruby drifted through the market like a ghost. She bought a small bag of dried strawberries from one stand. They were small, reddish-pink gummies that would have put any candy to shame. As she popped them into her mouth, one by one, Ruby sailed by the second-hand books. One book cost a nickel; two were a quarter. She ended up walking away with three: _The Girl in the Red Coat_ , _His Bloody Project_ , and _The Heart is a Lonely Hunter_. She could definitely agree with the final novel's title.

Already feeling slightly elevated, Ruby sought out one final item. An object guaranteed to grant her joy. Too bad that the stands selling them were so few.

At last, a table laid out with carefully-labelled gems caught Ruby's attention. She quickly positioned herself before it, eyeing the jewels hungrily. The man behind the stand paid her no heed, never looking up from the newspaper in his hands. That suited Ruby just fine. She could never make a calculated selection if someone was watching her, silently begging her to buy the most expensive item.

Ruby's hope dwindled, however, when she realized that she'd already collected members of most of these gem types. She was about to take wing when one gem caught her eye. It was small, no larger than a shard of glass, yet what it lacked in size it made up for in brilliance. Ruby picked up the little box in which the stone was being held. Written along the inside, carefully avoiding the stone, was the word 'Ammolite'. For a moment, Ruby didn't recognize it. Then, a memory clicked into place. She grinned. Admired the scaly surface, the divine sheen of red and green. Thin veins of yellow linked the colors together. Mesmerizing. Ruby was so entranced by the gem that she didn't notice the stand's owner finally giving her some attention.

"That there's the Ammolite." He said in a dry, raspy voice. "It's-"

"-Actually formed from a fossilized sea creature." Ruby finished without even looking up. Taking the piece between her forefinger and thumb, she held the stone up to the pale light. "It's believed that these fossils were formed 65 million years ago, and they're common in Canada. Most Ammolite will be found as a cabochon with a very flat top because of the raw material. The patterns are formed on the seams and lobes on the surface, which diffracts the light and creates rainbow colors." Ruby brought the piece closer to her eye, before nodding and turning back to the man. "It's real. Not bad. I've heard these pieces can be worth anything from ten to a thousand dollars."

The man simply stared at her, stunned. Ruby, in turn, eyed him. He was in his early fifties, she guessed, with a few wispy strands of hair combed over his balding scalp. His jaw wasn't having better luck at cultivating hair: his beard grew in cottony patches, with hairless spots in between. But other than that, she supposed, he wasn't bad looking. The man had a comely face and a strong build, evidently from years of digging up pieces of valuable stones. His skin was the color of milky coffee, and his eyes were a gentle blue. He wore a dirty, checkered shirt and ripped jeans. Indeed, this did not look like a man from the city.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, sorry, I didn't realize I was dealing with a fellow geologist."

Ruby held her hands up. "I'm actually not." She dropped them. "I'm actually the first deputy mayor. Ruby Sinclair."

"Oh, nice." He acted as though she'd just told him that she owned a pawn shop two streets away. Ruby decided that she liked his reaction. The man held his hand out. "Name's Horace." Ruby shook his hand. It was as coarse and rough as sand. Horace continued. "My, uh, my brother owns a geology shop. That's where a lot of these pieces come from."

Ruby nodded. "Yeah, they look well-kept." After a moment, she held up the box containing the Ammolite specimen. "How much does this cost?"

"Well, that's a small piece," Horace answered, "so we're pitching it at twelve bucks."

"Sounds legit." She reached into her wallet and extracted the dollar bills. As she handed them to Horace, who in turn gave her the box's lid, he spoke again. "Say, uh..."

Ruby eyed him as she pocketed the box.

"Does, er, your job require lots of time?"

Ruby quirked a brow at the question, then decided that - for now - there was no harm in asking. "Somewhat. Why?"

"Ah," Horace's brawny shoulders slumped. "That's a shame. See, the shop's been fallin' on rough times lately. People, they ain't interested in buyin' gems unless they're all strung up, ready to be worn. Or shiny. We don't sell neither of these things. So, we don't get that much action. My brother asks me to come out here every few days, just to help pay the bills. And that snot-nosed son of his..." Horace shook his head in disgust. "A no-good slacker, if I ever saw one. He's your age...how old are you, miss? Twenty-seven?"

"And a half." Ruby nodded.

"Yeah, that. And he ain't got no car, no job other than to watch the store, no house of his own, and no college degree. He ain't got no interest in stones, and so he sucks at getting the customers interested. Honestly..." Horace's eyes widened. He waved a hand. "Sorry, I just started blabbing...guess all I wanted to say is if you need a job," his hand appeared before her, a card perched between his dusty fingers, "we could use the help."

Ruby carefully accepted the card. Reading its contents. Finally, she gave a small smile as she pocketed it. "Okay, thanks."

* * *

Edward cackled as static flew from Butch's metallic crown. Drool ran down the large man's chin, his eyes rolling back. Tabitha grunted, struggled against her bonds, as the scent of burnt meat filled the room. Edward finally let go of the button, not wanting to invite death before he got his answers. Panting, Butch looked up at him with feverish eyes. "How many times...do I have to tell you? I've never...even heard of this woman."

With one last quick shock sent Butch's way, Edward lowered his arm. Strutting towards Tabitha, he said, "Well, then I guess I've have to direct my attention elsewhere."

Tabitha glared at him.

"No. No!" Butch shook his head drowsily. "Leave her outta this."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Edward replied, sounding almost genuinely sorry about it. "She is an integral part of your penance." Suddenly lightening his tone, he exclaimed, "It was such a pleasant surprise when I discovered that the two of you were together!" He laughed in a way that may have been good-natured, had his surroundings been different. "You know, after the initial gag reflex."

Butch glowered. His anger granted him courage. Speaking in a stronger voice than he had since arriving, he stated, "You know, I bet this gal doesn't even exist. I mean, come on. Who would fall in love with a **_freakshow_** like you?" He spat the word out as though it were poisonous.

Edward's expression was unreadable. He was silent.

"Oh, wait!" Butch laughed. "Let me guess! I bet she's got a certificate too, huh?"

His answer was a skull full of electricity.

Tabitha said something almost comprehensible through the gag. Edward release his hold on the button - for the moment - before freeing the woman of her burden. Glaring at him, she demanded, "Tell me what you want."

When was the last time someone had asked him that? Edward shrugged off his thoughts and answered. "I want to break Butch's heart before I end his life. You know, kind of an 'eye for an eye' thing. But in this case..." His lips broke into a wide smile. "I'll take a hand."

* * *

A light rainfall forced Ruby to take temporary refuge in a coffee shop. Aside from a few odd looks from those who remembered her from the video, it was a relatively peaceful time. The first deputy mayor combed through _His Bloody Project_ , her reading interrupted only by the occasional sip of cinnamon-orange tea. When at last the drops stopped falling, she paid for her drink, gathered the day's acquisitions, and headed out. The air smelled cleaner than usual, cleansed of the usual smog and fumes. It wouldn't last.

Ruby had taken a single step beyond the door when a body rammed into hers full-force. The impact sent Ruby stumbling, splashing her sneakers in a nearby oily puddle. Growling, she spun around and was about to yell...when a halo of blonde hair caught her eye. Ruby's mouth went dry. "Barbara?"

The woman, still draped in a black fur coat, looked disoriented for a second. A map was crumpled in her gloved fist. When she saw Ruby, her jaw set. Before Ruby could react, Barbara seized a fistful of her gray sweater. Yanked forward until their noses were almost touching. Up close, Ruby could see that Barbara was wearing foundation. "Where's my friend?!" Barbara demanded. "What did you do to her?!"

Ruby groaned. "This again? I don't know!"

"Bullshit!" Barbara spat in her face. "Your maid Olga told me Nygma bought stuff at Stocks and Bondage. I went there, and all that stuff was sent to a warehouse!" She shook Ruby like a doll. "If she's hurt, I swear-"

Suddenly she wasn't holding a cashmere sweater but sticky, eerily warm clay. Gasping, she watched Ruby's form melt before her eyes. The clay slid away from her fingers, instead sliding over her shoulders. At a moment's notice, the roles of victim and assaulter had reversed. Arms wrapped tightly around Barbara's throat, lifting her off the ground. A cold voice chilled her ear. "First off," Ruby growled, "you'd better calm down. I get that you're worried, but tackling me won't help. Second, no, I haven't seen her. I have no idea where Tabitha is. I'll admit, that Edward told us he wanted vengeance for his murdered girlfriend-"

"I knew it!" Barbara tried to struggle, but it was like attempting to free herself from heavy chains.

"But he didn't tell me that he'd actually carried it out." Ruby added. "From what I'd been told, the plan wouldn't go about for weeks."

"So you were just gonna let him kill Butch? Is that it?" Barbara laughed. "Even for a girl like me, that's cold! And here I thought you two were friends."

A stab of guilt passed through Ruby's heart. "Well, yeah. But he killed Ed's girlfriend. He needs to pay for that, as sorry as I am to say it."

Barbara shook her head. Impressive, considering Ruby was keeping an iron grip on her curly hair. "You've got it all wrong. Butch hasn't killed women in a long time. Whatever Ed says Butch did, he's wrong."

Ruby stopped. Was motionless for a moment. Doubt pricked her like a thorn. For the first time, she considered the idea that someone else had orchestrated Isabella's death. But who? And why? Why kill someone who shelves and cares for books?

She knew.

Ruby closed her eyes. But that didn't make the truth less visible. She'd always known. She had just hoped that her fears would be proved unfounded.

She sighed. Released Barbara. "Come on. Let's go."

Barbara stared at Ruby like she was a painting whose type she couldn't quite place. "What?"

Ruby jerked her weak chin at the sidewalk. "Lead the way."


	71. Chapter 70

Chapter 70  
  
Tabitha's dark hand was forced into the miniature guillotine, constantly fidgeting between the two forces. She tried to fight it, but her strength had been sapped by exhaustion and drugs. Edward, on the other hand, was as strong as a racehorse. The hand fit in easily, strapped into place. A remote was shoved between its fingers, holding the answer between life and death.

"Ed, come on!" Butch pleaded. "Let's - let's talk about this, huh? Come on, Ed. You don't have to do this. I told you: I never heard of someone named 'Isabelle'."

It was only at the end that Edward acknowledged his prisoner at all. "ISABELL-A!" He yelled. "Why is that so difficult?!" Forcing himself to calm down, he spoke again in a softer voice. "Anyway, I'm not the one you should be pleading with. Your life is in her..." He stopped, then smirked. "...Hand."

Butch growled. Within his meaty chest, the sinews of his heart twisted painfully. This game...it was cruelty incarnate. Either a hand lost, or a life. The very prospect sent shivers down his spine. But Butch was determined not to show his terror. "What difference does it make? You're gonna kill me one way or the other, right?"

Tabitha turned to him.

Edward thought for a second, then replied, "Good point." Clapping his hands, he said, "New deal! If she loves you enough to sacrifice her hand in exchange for your life, twinsies, then I swear," he placed a hand over his heart, the other raised high, "on the memory of my beloved Isabella, I will set you both free." His fingers found the timer crowning the guillotine, setting it to forty seconds. As the furious ticking unfurled, he stepped back. Ready to watch the show.

Tabitha's fingers fumbled with the remote, her eyebrows knitted together. Butch, on the other hand, was squirming in fear's grip. He may have been still, but his expression was taut with tension. "Tabby," he spoke in the warmest voice Edward had ever heard him use, "baby, come on."

Tabitha did not reply; nor did she meet his eye.

Butch swallowed. "We can get out of here, we-"

"I _like_ you, Butch. I really do." Tabitha stated in a thick voice, "but to be completely honest, I'm not exactly in a 'love' place right now."

Edward burst out laughing while Butch's face fell. "Sorry, big fella. I wish I could say I'm surprised, but I knew she was going to say that." He whispered theatrically behind a hand. Frustrated tears filled Butch's eyes as he glared up at his captor. "It's why I made the offer." Dropping his hand, he asked, "Any final words?" He held up his watch. "I would keep it brief."

Butch licked his lips, thinking, before deciding to say what was closest to his heart first. "Tabby. Baby."

Tabitha steeled herself, certain that he would try to persuade her yet again.

Instead, he said, "The last few weeks have been the best of my life."

Tabitha, caught off-guard, turned to look at her companion. A couple of stray tears ran down his face, but he was smiling comfortingly. "And it's okay you don't love me, 'cause I love you." With a tiny, dry laugh, he added, "And, for a guy like me, that's enough." Tabitha stared at him, her eyes huge, as Butch turned to Edward. "And you. You're damn right I killed her. I killed the woman you loved." Edward smirked at him. Butch continued. "You know what she said to me, right before I put a bullet in her brain?"

Edward's mask cracked. His brows met in the middle. His eyes clouded with confusion.

Butch grinned viciously at him. "She said she wished she woulda been with a _real_ man."

"Hey, Butch." Tabitha suddenly piped up, her tone uncertain. Butch turned to her. Determined to see her before dying. "Yeah?"

Tabitha's expression had softened. She looked as though she were only really seeing him for the first time. "You're sweet."

The timer went, ding! The blade began to fall. The remote fell to the floor. Edward froze, ironically wishing he could do the same to this moment, while Butch yelled. There was a nauseating slicing noise, of metal cutting through meat. Tabitha shuddered. Her hand fell to the floor in a growing puddle of her own blood.

Tabitha, stunned, held up her limb. At the wrist was a squirt of blood, but no hand. Her head dropped as consciousness fled.

"UNTIE ME!" Butch yelled. "Please, untie me! She's gotta get to a hospital! Quick!"

Edward, whose jaw had dropped, regained some form of composure. "You, you said you put a bullet in her head. Isabella died in a car crash. The - the brake lines were cut."

"I DON'T CARE!" Butch screamed desperately. "I told you I never heard of her!"

"You..." Edward blinked hard. "You _really_ didn't kill her?"

"No!" Butch was on the verge of tears. "Untie me! She's got to get to a hospital! Come on!"

The door behind Edward flew off its hinges. Barbara marched inside, her arm raised. Perched within her fingers was her gun. Ruby walked behind her, hands turned to knives. But when the scent of blood hit her nostrils, she dropped the weapons and hurried past her blonde guide. When Ruby saw the scene, all the color left her face. "Oh my God." She could barely get the words out. Shaking it off, she closed the distance between her and the prisoners. With one hand she sliced through Butch's manacles. The other freed Tabitha, wincing at the expanding lake of blood.

Barbara stood before Edward, her gun in his face. His face hosting a dozen different thoughts, he managed only to say, "I'd put that hand on some ice." Then, he left the room in a trance. Her target gone, Barbara shifted her attention to her comrades. Butch was on his feet, gingerly rubbing his wrists as he looked around for a wheelchair. Ruby, on the other hand, carefully collected Tabitha's severed hand. "Uh..."

"Put it on ice." Barbara said crisply. "You heard him."

"No." Ruby swallowed down the bile that wanted to push its way out. "I can fix it."

"You can?" Butch asked desperately.

Ruby nodded jerkily, not looking at anyone. Cautiously, she placed the dead hand on the wrist - where it had been only moments before. She raised her own hand over both limbs. Butch watched, horrified yet fascinated, as Ruby's fingers melted like tallow. The clay dribbled over the wound, forming a sticky ring. At last, when the circle was complete, Ruby formed another on top of it. Just to be safe. In the time that it took her to count to ten, the clay dried and broke away. Underneath, wrist and hand had been reunited. Ruby closed her eyes and let go of the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Oh, God." Butch said. "Oh, Jesus Christ. Ruby..." He ran up to her. Trapped her in a bone-crushing hug that lifted her feet from the ground. Then, he set her back down and covered her face with grateful kisses. Ruby, too stunned to truly react, let him express his thankfulness. Butch roughly pushed Ruby's curls out of her eyes. "I will never forget what you've done for us. Ever." He promised solemnly. "I swear. No matter what goes down between us and Penguin...we'll leave you out of it."

"I'm sorry." Ruby said at last. The words broke whatever control she'd had over her emotions. Falling to her knees, she began to weep uncontrollably. As Barbara, rolling her eyes, collected Tabitha, Butch knelt down and patted Ruby's shoulder. She sobbed in her hands. "I'm so sorry. This is my fault, too." She inhaled raggedly. "I...I should've known. But I didn't want it to be true. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

* * *

At first, Oswald was pleased that Ruby had left the house. Between work and dealings, she didn't go out nearly as often as he would have recommended. He supposed that this simply had to do with her upbringing. Ruby had spent most of her young life locked up, behind four walls. Thus, she would psychologically feel safer in such a familiar setting. The liberty to be able to leave, also, added a thrill to it.

But now, Ruby had been gone for five hours. She had never been out for such a long time; especially without answering his calls or texts. Had something happened?

Oswald was pacing back and forth, despite the pain that it caused him, when at last a noise reached his ears. It was the distant cracking of roof tiles as pressure was applied.

Which could only mean one thing: Ruby had returned home by flying, and had landed right in front of her bedroom window. Already relieved, Oswald crashed in the armchair, finally setting the bottle aside. Knowing that she was nearby killed the urge to drink. Deciding that she simply wanted to freshen up, the mayor listened to the noises upstairs. He read a Dickens novel between upward glances, wondering what she could be doing.

He did not have to wait long. Ruby shambled down the stairs about two hours afterward, freshly washed and changed. No surprise. What _did_ surprise Oswald was the luggage. Ruby was carrying a suitcase; a backpack hung from her shoulders. Her box of jewels had been sealed shut with duct tape and was tied to her waist with a rope. When she looked at him, her expression was as cold and closed as a stone gate.

Oswald jumped to his feet. "What in heaven's name...?" His icy-blue eyes went from the bags to their owner. Asking.

Ruby set the bags down. Slowly approached him, as if treading towards a wild animal. "Is it true?"

Oswald frowned. "What?"

"Did you kill Isabella?" Ruby's voice was tight, as though an invisible fist were squeezing her throat. "And were you going to let Butch and Tabitha take the blame?"

"He betrayed me." Oswald pointed out. "And she killed my mother. I'd say they had it coming."

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I ASKED!" Ruby blew up at him. Oswald stumbled backward, crashing back in his chair. Ruby stood there, breathing heavily. Her hands trembled at her sides, as if tempted to choke him. She stuffed them in her trousers' pockets. "Did you?" She asked in a quieter voice.

Oswald pressed his lips together. Feeling guilty, but only superficially so. After all, the people that they were discussing were beneath them. "Do you remember your promise?"

"Yes." Ruby answered coldly.

"Then, yes. I had Gabe cut her brake lines." Oswald felt calm. Impatient to get this conversation over with.

Ruby began to walk towards him again. With more confidence. She didn't stop until she was hovering over him. He was well within her power, and they both knew it. The first deputy mayor's expression was set in stone. "Tabitha's at the hospital right now, receiving emergency blood transfusions, because of your decision. And Butch has declared war on you."

"Don't you mean 'us'?" Oswald asked, if only to remind her of their allegiance.

"No." Ruby replied tersely. "Ed chopped off Tabitha's hand. I fixed it. So, I'm off the hook. You and Ed, on the other hand..." She chuckled, shaking her head.

"Well, it's a good thing we have you." Oswald spoke, trying to smile despite the anxiety eating at his insides. "You can fight them off. Kill them, if you wish."

"For what?" Ruby asked. "For retaliating against a wrong inflicted on them? For defending their own? No, thank you." She straightened. It was only there, in the candlelight, that Oswald saw that her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. He tried to take her hand. She slapped it away.

"I really wanted to think that you were better than this. I wanted to believe that you could get over this rivalry and just let Ed be happy, because I know he'd have done the same for you. But no." Even though her voice was angry, her eyes were tearing up again. "You just couldn't stand the fact that Edward fell in love with someone else. So, you got rid of her." Narrowing her eyes, she pointed at herself. "Hell, what if Ed and ** _I_** start dating? The age gap isn't so great, and I believe we could have some interesting conversations. What will you do then, Oz? Are you going to have _me_ killed, too?" She wasn't yelling, but her words struck deeper than any sword.

"Ruby." Oswald rose, forcing her to step back. He stared at her, aghast. "How can you even think that? I would _never_ hurt you. Ever."

"You already have." Ruby informed him bitterly. "You shut me out for weeks - _weeks_ \- when you learned about my powers. When that video infected the Web, I needed your advice, your support. All you could do, until the very last second, was make me feel even worse than I already did. Which, believe me, is really saying something. You kissed me when you were drunk, not giving a dried fig about how I'd feel about the matter. And..." Her voice caught in her throat. The words shivered there, begging to be let out. _You broke my heart_. But she couldn't say them. Even in this state, her secret was too densely chained to be freed.

Ruby shook her head. "A promise is a promise. Edward won't know it was you. Not from me, anyway. But I'm not staying here a moment longer." She spun around, but Oswald grabbed her hand. "No, wait! Please!"

Ruby glared back at him as he spoke. Desperate to reach her with his words. "I...you're right! I've hurt you very grievously in the past, and I will never quite forgive myself for those mistakes. But I paid for those mistakes. And, regarding this...I didn't want to involve you. I wanted to spare you this entire, hideous affair."

"Well, you failed at that!" Ruby snapped. "I had to pick up Tabitha's chopped-off hand and stick it back onto the wrist. It was...it was beyond horrifying! I don't think there's a word in the English language that can describe how that felt. I had to see what Ed is capable of. Right there, in my face! There was no escaping that!" She shook her head, determined not to cry. "Oz...I think I've done enough to warrant your trust. I've protected you, stood by you, killed for you...and you weren't even manly enough to tell me the truth. You lied to me." She shook her head. "I promised I'd keep your secret, and I will. But I can't live with someone who can't be honest, not even with himself." Wrenching her hand free, Ruby collected her bags again. Oswald watched, horrified, as she did so.

"I'll be staying at Wayne Manor for a while. If you want to talk, I'll listen. But until then, I can't look at you. Nor at Ed. Say goodbye to him for me, will you?" Without meeting his eye, Ruby spun on her heel and walked towards the door.

No. This couldn't be happening. Oswald couldn't accept it. His very soul rejected it. Grabbing his cane, he ran after her. She walked through the front door, where a taxi waited.

No. No, no, no.

"Ruby!" Oswald nearly slipped. Was saved only by one of the pillars, which he held onto with a vice-like grip. "Ruby, please! You can't leave, this is your home! And I...I really care about you. Please don't leave!"

Ruby stopped. She slowly turned back to him. Oswald stopped. He saw the tears glistening on Ruby's eyelashes like dew on grass. Saw the heartbreak in her indigo irises. Yet he saw the fury there, too.

"I care about you, too." Ruby said honestly. "I care about you more than you'll ever know. But I can't be here for a while." She shook her head. "You make me too sad." With that, she climbed into the yellow-and-black vehicle. The engine purred. Black smoke wafted in the air. With a screech, it backed out of the driveway and onto the road.

Oswald watched the car grow smaller and smaller. His vision blurred.


	72. Chapter 71

**This chapter features a song. To better get a sense of the intended mood, try reading it whilst listening to the song. It is called 'Wish That You Were Here' by Florence and the Machine. Here is the link: watch?v=dsWDUvuF0Xc**

* * *

Chapter 71

Bruce had been nothing short of shocked when Ruby Sinclair, the first deputy mayor, had called him asking for hospitality. "Only for a week, at most." She'd assured him. "Just until I find a place of my own."

He'd asked her what had transpired. She hadn't answered.

So, here they were. Just a handful of hours later, they were eating vegetarian lasagna at opposite ends of the dining table. Bruce, dressed in a black dress shirt and trousers, shot a questioning look at Alfred. The butler simply shrugged his broad shoulders, as clueless as Bruce felt. The aristocratic teen turned to Ruby, who had barely spoken a word since sitting down. Her hair was done up in a top-knot, and she wore a diamond necklace. Perhaps both attributes were meant to distract one's attention from the red puffiness of her eyes.

"So," Bruce cleared his throat, "er...how are you?"

Ruby shrugged, not looking up from her food. "I'm alive." She said simply before adding, "And really, thank you. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your letting me stay here." She gave him the briefest glance as she spoke.

Bruce waved her thanks away. "You saved my life, and you and Penguin helped make Gotham safer. You deserve this much."

"Can we please not talk about...him?" Ruby stabbed her lasagna. "Otherwise, I'll throw up this lovely meal."

"Ooh." Alfred's comment had both heads twisting. There was a playful smirk in the butler's tanned face. "Trouble in paradise, my dear?"

"Paradise?" Ruby frowned. Then, understanding dawned in her eyes. "Oh, no." She shook her head, raising her hands. "He and I were **_not_** a couple. Not even close." She gave a dry chuckle bereft of joy. "He doesn't swing that way." Dropping her hands, she attacked her food again. "Probably for the best. If he and I ever did get together, he'd kill the first other guy who said 'hi' to me."

"Is that what happened?" Bruce asked, trying to be gentle.

Ruby growled. "I believe I asked-"

"Okay, okay." It was Bruce's turn to raise his hands. "Sorry. Really. We'll stop."

Ruby's anger faded. Suddenly, she didn't look furious. She just looked exhausted. Sighing, she rested her elbows on the table. Then, she began to rub her temples. "I'm sorry." She said sincerely. "You're hosting me, and I'm snapping at you like a wild dog. Sorry."

"It's fine." Bruce assured her kindly. He knew all too well how it felt to be on bitter terms with someone he cared for. Thus, keeping his word, he steered them into safer subject matters. The weather. Ruby's jewels. Business at Wayne Enterprises. The history of lasagna. Bit by bit, as the evening blackened into night, he saw Ruby unwind. She began to relax, move with more fluidity, and guarded herself less. By the end of the night, when they bid each other good dreams, she seemed almost as cheerful as she'd been that night at the party.

It wasn't until she'd retreated to the guest room that Bruce truly understood. As he passed by her door, toothbrush in hand, muffled sobs reached his ears. He stopped, listened for a moment, then quickly left. But still the weeping followed him, entrenching its sorrow into his heart. He had not heard such crying, he realized, since the night his parents were killed.

The phone down the hallway began to ring. Alfred was too far away to hear it - outside, taking out the trash - and Ruby was a guest. Thus, Bruce took it upon himself to answer himself. Hopefully, it wouldn't be trouble.

His hopes were dashed the moment he held the receiver to his ear. "Hello?"

"Mr. Wayne?" A strained, yet demanding voice leaked out. "This is Oswald Cobblepot."

"Oh." Bruce quickly gyrated to ensure that Ruby's door was still closed. Huddling up against the receiver, he spoke. "Er...what can I do for you?"

"You're young, but bright." Penguin's voice was as sharp as a leech. "I'm certain that you can make an educated guess."

Bruce sighed. "Yes, I can. My answer is no."

"Miss Sinclair is my business partner, on both sides of the spectrum. I need her here. The team is otherwise incomplete." Penguin may have been trying to sound calm, but Bruce could hear it. The man's supposedly calm mood was on the verge of shattering like sugar glass.

Bruce shook his head even though the older man couldn't see it. "I'm sorry, sir. But Ruby is an adult. I can't just put her in a box and mail her to you. This has to be her own decision."

"She's not thinking straight!" Penguin wasn't yelling, but he was close enough. "We had an argument, yes, but her emotions are clouding her judgement. She is thinking in the short-term. I am trying to rectify that."

"I'm sorry." Bruce said again, this time in a sterner voice. "But if Ruby wants to stay here, I will not stop her. The same goes for her leaving. But if this evening is any indication, she doesn't want to see you. Not even close." Unable to stop himself, he added. "She couldn't even say your name."

"What?" Penguin sounded as though he'd suddenly developed a sore throat. "No, that can't be. You, boy, are lying to me."

"I am not." Bruce replied coolly. "I think this conversation has gone on long enough. Best of luck." He hung up before Penguin could say another word. Shaking, but not out of fear.

* * *

The phone beeped monotonously in Oswald's ear. Adding oil to the fire.

"Why, that pathetic little-" He was tempted to throw the phone out the window, but he held himself in check. Perhaps Ruby would call, and how could he answer if the telephone was broken? Trying to calm down, he placed the receiver back in its place. Sighing, he crashed into his armchair. He cradled his face in his hands, if only to pretend that he wasn't crying.

Edward had taken the news badly, even though he'd done everything to hide it. He'd been in his office, working busily, trying to distract himself, when Oswald's timid knock had penetrated the silence. Edward had tried to smile, then casually asked when Ruby would come home. He'd even ordered from her favorite vegan restaurant. Oswald would have broken down right then, if because of what could have been. The three of them would have been sitting in one of the many dining rooms, take-out cartons on their laps and playful arguements over which film to watch. Edward may have wanted something cerebral, food for thought - perhaps _Unthinkable_ or _2001: A Space Odyssey_. Ruby would have favored an old black-and-white classic, like _Bride of Frankenstein_ or _The Mummy_. Oswald would have been sitting between them, spooning ratatouille into his mouth and rolling his eyes. They would have at last settled on something, and spent the rest of the evening cracking jokes or commenting the film's quality.

But none of that would happen. Maybe, it never would again. It was gone. Vapor. Less than a dream.

Oswald had quickly updated Edward on Ruby's situation. He still didn't know why he'd spoken so fast. Perhaps, subconsciously, he'd hoped that saying it rapidly would hurt Edward less. He couldn't have been more wrong. Edward, not understanding - or maybe not wanting to - had asked for an explanation. The look on his face...Oswald would never forget it. He looked almost as torn as he'd been regarding Isabella's death. Grimacing, the mayor told the story that he'd prepared in advance: that he and Ruby had had a verbal jousting so grave that Ruby had packed her bags and left for Wayne Manor. Edward had, of course, asked what could have planted such wrath between them. Oswald had shrugged, saying something unclear about built-up disappointments.

That night, dinner had been one of the most tense affairs that Oswald could remember. Even his evening meals with his father and horrid stepfamily had been better, because he'd been too brainwashed to notice the latter's malevolence. Edward had picked at his food, staring out into the void, and giving only the briefest responses to Oswald's attempts at conversation. Oswald understood, though he wished that he didn't. Edward had lost his girlfriend and a good friend within days of each other. Oswald considered calling Wayne Manor again, this time insisting on talking to Ruby, and trying to guilt-trip her into coming home. _"Don't you want to be there for Ed?"_ He thought of saying. _"He's going through so much, he needs all the support he can get."_ But each time, he stopped. He refused to appear too desperate, especially when the Son of Gotham was there to witness it all.

Thus, here he was. The most powerful man in Gotham, sitting in a gigantic house. Painfully. Utterly. Alone.

For the next two most laborious hours since his days as an umbrella boy, Oswald tried to distract himself. He had a few inadequate underlings come into his house, most likely interrupting their meth parties, and shot them in the head with the same indifference one would when swatting a fly. But blood couldn't wash out his dark thoughts, even as it stained his cherrywood floor. Ringing for Olga, he departed for the upper floor. There, Oswald peered through the window. At his father's final resting place, just a few feet away from the apple trees and vegetable patch. Oswald's heart lurched from the old wound. But the newer one burned through. He tried reading _1984_ , one of his favorite sci-fi books, while attempting to enjoy a hot bath. The former brought back pleasant memories. The latter got him clean. Neither cheered him up.

Sighing, Oswald was about to hit the hay early when a thought occured to him. He knew every inch of these grounds...except for, currently, Ruby's room. What had she taken? Clothes and toiletries, surely, and her jewelry. But had she taken any books? If so, which ones? Had she pocketed a few photos, too? Perhaps some of her posters?

Suddenly drawn to the attic like a sheep towards honey-stalks, Oswald reclaimed his cane and made his way upstairs. It took him a good ten minutes, but he was hardly visiting someone.

At last, he stood before the door. For the first time, Oswald noticed its state. Every other door in the house was polished like a wooden mirror, filed down to avoid scraping against the floors, and were repainted every ten months or so. Ruby's was not. The wood's paint was peeling away in strips like dandruff. Its edges were chipped. The knob, once gleaming, was now a dull bronze sphere.

Taking a breath, Oswald pushed the door. Unlocked, it swung open. Inviting him inside. Oswald stood there. Unable to proceed. Then, at last, he found strength in his mangled legs again.

The sight waiting for him took his breath away.

Ruby hadn't taken some of the photos - she had taken _all_ of them. But the posters had remained, perhaps too large to be folded and carried away. Somehow, despite their familiarity, they made Oswald sad. One poster was of Bram Stoker's _Dracula_ , famously interpreted by Bela Lugosi. He remembered watching it for the first time with her. Ruby, just for fun, had morphed her face to resemble the actor. When he'd turned around to suddenly find a vampire sitting next to him, Oswald had yelped and tumbled out of his seat. Ruby had teased him about it for days afterward. Another was a geology chart, meticulously organized via color. Shaped into a rainbow-themed wheel, the jewels were placed into certain ranks where they were labelled.

The final poster...oh, wow. Oswald felt a sting. It had been his slogan for the election campaign. Make Gotham safe again. There he was, standing in front of the American flag, his hair brushed back and a finely-tailored blue suit screaming of professionalism. Oswald felt his throat close up. He had been in here half a dozen times, and he had never bothered to notice the poster.

There seemed to be quite a bit of things that he'd failed to see.

Oswald perservered in his examination. The only books missing were the ones that Ruby hadn't read yet. The only clothes missing were those for the warmer seasons. All of the sheets and towels were still there.

Hesitating, the mayor looked under the bed. Wondering if he'd find an ugly surprise like last time. Kneeling, he reached under the quilt and found papery surfaces. Bringing them to light, Oswald was relieved to see that the fashion magazines were gone. By guilt or by hatred, he didn't care so long as they didn't return. But the Arkham files...they were still here. Beyond that, however, Oswald found nothing except for a few mixtapes. Curious, the mayor selected the most recent. The only one with his name on it. As a strange shiver ran down his spine, Oswald rose with the tape in his hands. Quickly spotting the boom box, he slid the tape inside. Waited.

The air was tickled by strums of...what was it, guitar? Nevertheless, he listened, sitting on Ruby's bed. The beginning was calm, yet alive, like a shoreline. A sweet voice began to sing,

 _"I've tried to leave it all behind me  
But I woke up and there they were beside me…_  
 _And I don't believe it but I guess it's true_  
 _Some feelings, they can travel too."_

Oswald leaned back, listening, as dozens of different emotions flooded the room. Passion. Sorrow. Nostalgia. Thoughtfulness. So much, in such simple yet poetic lyrics. Why had Ruby chosen this song for him? Why did it remind her of him? Oswald sat still, as if moving would disrupt the flow of the melody.

 _"Oh there it is again, sitting on my chest  
Makes it hard to catch my breath  
I scramble for the light to change  
You're always on my mind…  
You're always on my mind…"_

* * *

Ruby closed her eyes, hiccuping and folding her hands behind her head. She'd changed in an oversized T-shirt and shorts, but the loose clothing had done nothing to relax her. If anything, it made her feel worse because the soap wafting from them reminded her of home. And, by extention, of Oswald. Another tear ran down her face, joining the others in her pillow. Ruby had cried more in the past couple of hours than she could remember doing for months. Her eyes were aching and sore, yet the tears kept coming. Split deep within her was the indecision between staying and returning. Rationality told her that she had done the right thing. But her heart screamed and wailed like a petulant child, urging to be reunited with its sweet poison.

Because love really is a venom. Sweet as honeydew and light as clouds, but it kills you all the same. Ruby was fairly certain that if she dug her claws into her belly and tore the skin away, the interior would be black and sticky with rot.

Ruby sighed. Defeated and exhausted, she reached out. There was a state-of-the-art radio on the other side of the room. She reached it without having to get up - or even sit up. Her hand pressed a button, then rolled another. Familiar tunes rang through the room like cymbals. Ruby leaned back, both soothed and hurt by the words gushing forth. Softly, she began to sing along.

 _"And I never minded being on my own_  
 _Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home_  
 _To be where you are_  
 _But even closer to you, you seem so very far."_

Involuntarily, images began to spring forth. Flashes. Sounds. Smells. Pockets of time, preserved like precious fossils. Everything from the beginning to the end. Everything that had swarmed Ruby's mind when she'd first heard this song, continued to sense as she'd added it to her mixtape, and was seeing all over again. Oswald, then a stranger, dripping and shivering in the rain. The necklace of varied stones that had gone from her neck to his. Their chats, back in the early days, hovering over peeled potatoes and polished boots. The night in which they eliminated the filth that had killed Master. The dinner that had followed.

 _"And now I'm reaching out but every now I see  
And I hope it gets to you on some pacific wind  
Risings have surround you and whispers in your ear  
Tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here."_

Ruby stared up at the canopy, softly singing along, as the tears continued to flow. The memories, too, flowed over her like the ocean's waves. But as the song continued, and the recollections became increasingly recent, they soured like grapes. Edward's presence hovering over their lives like a stormcloud. Oswald never giving up on his friend, always praising him and pitying him, as if forgetting the riddle man's betrayal. That frosty conversation at the burger joint during Oswald's brief absence. The rivalry, peppered with Ruby adding a special ingredient to Edward's drinks. The electoral campaign, and the 'monster' speeches. Supplying said 'monsters' with the means to start a new life somewhere else, and living with the guilt that some had ignored her offer. The viral video.

 _"And if I stay home, I don't know_  
 _There'll be so much that I'll have to let go_  
 _You disappear in all the time_  
 _But I still see you in the light."_

Wanting to die. Being saved by Oswald. Fusing with him. Training. Becoming more in-sync with each other as Cobblair. Jealousy. Cobblair temporarily going beserk. All of those reconciliations, like that first, icy drink of water after crossing the desert. The Founder's Dinner. The party celebrating Oswald's victory. Oswald's intimate hug with Edward. Ruby heading downstairs to tell Oswald the truth, only to hear the very words she had had nightmares about. All of these memories, all of these snippets of time, lost chronology in favor of emotion, some tinted blue with healing while others reddened with hurt.

 _"For you, the shadows fight  
And it's beautiful but there's that tug in the sight  
I must stop time traveling, you're always on my mind  
You're always on my mind  
You're always on my mind."_


	73. Chapter 72

Chapter 72

A week passed. Then, two. A third rolled by just as quickly. Each day was slow in both arrival and passing, like houseguests who took forever to arrive and then had to be forced out the door. Oswald spent those days going about business as usual: smiling for the public, killing traitors in private. Edward did the same, coveting Isabella yet never slacking in his work. Yet the empty chair, the lack of jewels, and overall darkened atmosphere hung between them like mist. The absence was impossible to ignore, yet neither man could speak of it. Edward tried to avoid thinking of his lost friend simply because that, combined with his love's death, would have put him off paperwork for days. Such behavior could only cripple Oswald's empire, and that would not do. Oswald's reason for silence was more personal. He did not speak of Ruby lest her harsh words ring in his ears, their last meeting sour in his mouth.

 _"You just couldn't stand the fact that Edward fell in love with someone else...what if Ed and I start dating?...Are you going to have me killed, too?"_

Oswald swallowed hard. Tried to break the cycle of sorrow. Attempted to focus on the present. It wasn't an easy pill to swallow, but each day diluted its bitterness. Bruce Wayne had been right: Ruby was an adult. If she wanted to come home, she would. Besides, she had left the door open for communication. That aided his trip for recovery, and Oswald was certain that he would visit - or at least call - sometime soon. But not yet. Until he could muster up the courage, he made do with letters. One a day. Every day. By the tenth delivery, the guard had stopped asking questions.

Overall, life went on.

Until one day, it came to a grinding halt all over again.

She came on a busy day, when most of the bodyguards were out with Oswald. She came when she was certain that Ruby wasn't coming back, at least not right away. She came when she knew she'd find Ed in the house.

"No rest for the wicked?"

Edward looked up, and started. Barbara Kean strolled into his study as though they were two friends about to head out for lunch. Her hair was pulled back, and she was dressed in a black fur coat. Edward wondered what Ruby, who got queasy at the sight of raw meat and couldn't stand to watch movies where animals were killed, would say about such an outfit. The reminder that he wouldn't know stung Edward like a hot-tempered wasp. Barbara held up her gloved hands. "Relax." She perched on one of the seats in front of the fireplace. "I'm not here to get revenge for you loppin' off Tabby's paw." She brushed an imaginary speck of dust from her skirt. "Though I am surprised to find you back at work and not tracking down who really did kill your lady love."

"That's because you don't see the full picture." Edward replied, drawing a square into the air as if completing a diagram. "The mayor has many enemies. These enemies understand that I'm a fundamental part of this operation, especially with..." He paused, swallowed hard. "With Miss Sinclair taking leave. They weaken me, they weaken him. That was clearly the intent of killing Isabella." Ed cleared his throat, straightened. "Also, I have spies all over the city. Soon enough, whoever killed Isabella will reveal themselves." He grinned malevolently. "And I will strike." He turned to his files, searching for the ones required for the forms he was filling out.

Barbara shook her head, her blue eyes filled with something akin to pity. "Poor blind baby. It's always hardest to see what's right under our noses."

Edward straightened, his back to her, with a puzzled expression.

Barbara let out a false cough that sounded suspiciously like 'Penguin'.

Edward slowly turned around, an amused twist at the edge of his mouth. "...Did you just fake-cough Penguin?"

Barbara shrugged, smiling coyly. Edward laughed. "Needless to say, that is... _absurd_ , on a number of levels."

"Really?" Barbara asked. "All a crime requires is means, motive, and oppurtunity." She gestured to the luxurious dècor around her. "And your beaky little buddy certainly has the means and oppurtunity."

"But no motive." Edward retaliated blankly.

Barbara grinned. "Oh, I would say he had the oldest motive in the book."

Edward glanced up from his work, without facing her.

"Rich men want it, wise men know it, the poor all need it-"

"Love." Edward replied. "What does that have to do-?" He stopped. Silent. No, frozen.

Barbara slowly rose from her seat, grinning. "And the penny drops."

* * *

The geology store, Jasper's Jewels, was perfect at midday. No customers, at least for a while. Small and quiet, surrounded by gems, it was no different from being in her amethyst cavern.

Ruby sat on the stool, a magnifying glass held in place by a third hand. The other two worked under the lamp's brightness. One, clad in rubber, carefully polished an emerald the size of an apple. The other slowly crawled across the gleaming, green surface in search of cracks. So consumed she was by her work that the slamming door chased a yelp out of her. She straightened, blushing with fury as her coworker laughed. " _Merc!_ "

The man, half a year younger than she, was leaning on the wall for support as he laughed. Mercury, her new boss's son, was not handsome by any means. He was short and skinny, with a round little belly that adolescence had refused to burn away. He had an even weaker chin than Ruby, with very round cheeks and a crooked nose. His eyes were small and close-set. To make it worse, his hairline was receding despite his age. Not handsome, but merry. Heaven knew Ruby needed some merriment in her life these days.

Setting down her emerald, Ruby calmly waited for Mercury (no doubt the elemental name had cost him endless bullying in childhood) to calm down. When he eventually did, she smirked. "Play some more Dungeons and Dragons with your friends today? Or did you just go to Starbucks?"

"Hey, doll, you insult me!" Merc put his hand over his heart. "I spend each and every one of my days with craft and wit!"

"By doing what, then?" Ruby's smirk widened.

"By playing D&D," Mercury winked, " _and_ going to Starbucks!"

Ruby held up her hands. "Oh, wow."

Chuckling, Mercury reached into his sweatshirt's pocket and extracted a paper bag. "Here; I brought you a brownie."

As if on cue, Ruby's stomach rumbled. Chuckling bashfully, she accepted the treat with a nod. As she took the first gooey bite, Mercury walked past her and deposited his backpack into the broom closet. "Any customers today, Curly?"

Ruby gulped down the chocolatey mouthful and wiped her lips clean. "Yeah, six. In order, they bought half a pound of carnelians, a sapphire ring, a quarter pound of white river pearls, a chunk of holly blue agate, garnet earrings, and an egg-sized piece of sardonyx. In total, we made," she checked the cash register, "six hundred and forty-three dollars in total. So, overall-"

"Not bad." Mercury pistol-shot her as he emerged. Crashing in the stool next to hers, he sighed. Emptying his pockets of a newspaper, he dropped it on the desk. "The fliers you handed out last week really helped. Maybe, if we're lucky, we'll make it past the bills this month."

Ruby bit her lip, not wanting to get her new friend's hopes up in vain but not wishing to leave him in the dust. She attempted a middle ground. "We'll do our best." Shrugging, she added. "That's all we can really do."

Mercury ran a hand through his thin hair. "I don't suppose you could ask your friend Mr. Wayne for a little extra dough, can ya?"

"No." Ruby said firmly. "Absolutely not. It's already bad enough I had to stay a week later than I'd said. If I came knocking on his door asking for money..." She shook her head. "No. Just no."

"Why?" Mercury insisted. "It's not like he can't afford it."

"True," Ruby's voice grew brittle with repressed anger, "but friendship is based on equity. If I start asking him for money, well, then, it'll all go downhill from there. I'll ask him for more and more stuff, and soon enough I won't be his friend, but a leech!"

"Okay, okay, jeez!" Mercury held his hands up like a barrier. "Cool it, cat. I didn't mean to ruffle your feathers."

Ruby sighed. Ran a hand through her hair. "It's...it's fine, Merc. Sorry. I just...ah, I don't know." She sighed. "I guess my nerves are just scrambled, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Mercury leaned back in his stool. "When Pops couldn't afford college for me no more, man, I was down in the dumps. I'd sorta been glad, 'cuz I'd only gone to shut him up and make him happy. But I still felt bad that I couldn't be what he wanted me to be." Mercury's eyes, normally a soft hazel, darkened. "Eventually, though, I got over it. I learned that nothing I do could ever make him happy."

Ruby said nothing. When Horace had passively mentioned his nephew's laziness that day in the market, she had assumed his description had been exaggerated. But now she knew better. Mercury, while a fun and good-hearted individual, was hopeless when it came to work. Lacking a college degree and the impulse to work, he spent his days doing little other than what he pleased. Ruby worried. What would happen if he kept up this behavior indefinitely? He could not, lest he wanted to end up either in a gang or on the streets.

But any talk of real work only caused Mercury to clam up, so Ruby decided to shift the discussion into safer territories. "Did you know that the emerald is a variant of the beryl mineral?"

The mist slowly lifted from Mercury's eyes. "For real?"

"For real." Ruby confirmed. "And its color is due to traces of chromium and, sometimes, vandium. And it has a hardness of 7.5 on the Mahs scale so..." Her eyes spotted something by chance. Something in the newspaper. Her heartbeat picking up, Ruby set the emerald down. Mercury frowned. "Hey, babe, you okay?"

Ruby, barely breathing, seized the newspaper that Mercury had brought it. Held up a small section to verify. Mercury's hand landed on her back. "Doll?"

She didn't answer. She couldn't. All she could do was process the announcement in the bottom-right corner:

 _Famous model Opal Sinclair, aged 48, miraculously gives birth to a healthy baby girl_.


	74. Chapter 73

Chapter 73

Opal Sinclair smiled down at the flashing cameras. Hundreds of people were calling out her name, begging her to select them. She sat in the cushioned seat as though it were a throne, dressed in silvery fabric. Her honey-colored hair was done up in a bun, and a diamond necklace graced her collarbone. The only aspect that didn't scream regality was the newborn in her arms, already donning Hèrmes. Anyone sitting next to her would have looked shabby, but her cousin Justin hardly needed the comparison. Sitting close enough to rub elbows, the older man had inherited some of the Sinclair ancestral disease: half of his face looked like ice cream under an August sun. He had grown his reedy hair long enough to conceal it, but this style simply drew attention to the deformity.

Just a brief interview on a model, and her newborn. At least, that's what it was supposed to be. Opal was squeezing every last bit of publicity for all it was worth.

As the cameras at last ceased their attack, and voices, quieted down, Opal grinned. "It is an honor to have been invited to the opening of Stone Street's new fertility clinic. I know it will bring hope to aspiring parents everywhere. I mean, if I can have this little bundle of joy," she kissed her daughter's forehead, but never took her eyes away from her audience, "then anyone can!"

"But, Miss Sinclair." A particularly loud seized her attention. She turned to see a female journalist dressed in a dark pinstripe suit. She stood out from the crowd, and not only because she was the only one wearing jewelry: black pearls around her neck, and jet earrings. No. It was the scowl. "Did you not have another daughter, some twenty-seven years ago? A girl?" The journalist moved towards the stage, eyes never leaving Opal's face. "Hm? What happened to her?" Surprised murmurs rose from within the crowd, killing the mirth altogether.

Cheeks flushing, Opal tried to smile. "I lost the baby, unfortunately. She was in the wrong position."

"Oh?" The journalist crossed her arms. "That's interesting, because there are rumors. Especially considering that child's parentage."

Opal felt her pulse quicken, but she kept her face neutral. "I don't listen to filth."

"So you're not aware of it?" The journalist's voice grew bitter as wormwood. "There are those who claim that the baby, however short-lived, was not your husband's progeny at all, but a **_bastard_** born of **_incest_**. Will similar rumors rise with that little bundle in your arms? Or will she die, too?" The crowd had stopped taking photos altogether. Nobody spoke, but everybody looked. The studio was as silent as a crypt.

Opal sat there, all color drained from her face, while her cousin Justin looked ready to pass out. The baby in Opal's arms began to bawl. Its piercing howl cut through the air like a silver dagger.

"Go to commercial." Opal ordered the men behind the cameras. When they only exchanged looks, she screamed, "I said, go to commercial!" The cameras promptly went black. The model wasted no time in hurrying backstage, shrugging off her cousin's hand on her elbow. Ignoring all shouted questions, she made a beeline for her room. Locked the door, then leaned against it. The baby's crying had, at this point, been reduced to pathetic sniffles.

Opal stood there, breathing shakily, as she took in her changing room. Twice the size of any other, it hosted the dozen gowns that she had brought from home lest she grow indecisive of what to wear. Bouquets of flowers had been brought in; all gifts from her admirers. Boxes of jewelry. For the first time Opal saw these things, and realized how quickly she could lose them.

"Hello, Opal."

She yelped. Her cry kickstarted the infant's wails. A shadow materialized from behind a few coats. Stepping into the lights framing the mirror, it was revealed to be the journalist. Whose face and hair were changing before Opal's horrified eyes.

Ruby stood before her mother, hands on her hips. Whistling, she looked around. "My, my. You certainly didn't bother restraining your taste, did you? After all, I'm sure your lover left you plenty when he died." She tilted her head, fair curls bouncing. "Or do you prefer 'brother'? I know those words can seem synonymous to you, but-"

"What are you doing here, you monster?" Opal snapped, her voice as cold as nitrogen. "I believe I told you everything I had to when you killed Jasper."

"You did." Ruby nodded. "But I'm not here for you." She pointed. "I'm here for _her._ "

Opal gasped. Clutched the bundle to her chest. "You've taken my love, and now you want to take the only daughter I have?"

"I was your daughter too, once." Ruby's nostrils flared with contained anger. "Until you decided I was too ugly, and locked me away like some rabid dog." She crossed her arms. "Tell me, who's the father? The man with the melting face?" Opal didn't answer. Her eyes did it for her. Ruby chuckled. "My, my. How the mighty have fallen."

Opal snarled. "You want her? You'll have to pry her out of my dead fingers."

"See, that's funny." Ruby scratched her cheek thoughtfully. "That sounds like something a mother would say, not some materialistic, incestuous narcissist who wrings the use out of people like a dish rag."

"Of course I'm a mother; her mother." Opal stroked the child's fuzzy head absent-mindedly. "I'm the mother of a perfect little angel. I'd say the heavens owed me, after sending me demon spawn like you."

Ruby laughed humorlessly. "You're so sure the child will be beautiful? Even though her father looks like Jabba the Hutt?" She shook her head, all humor leaving her face. "No. You're delusional if you think otherwise. I know what's going to happen. The second the child shows a symptom, you'll lock her away, too. And even if she doesn't inherit the Sinclair disease, you'll mould her into your own image, stripping away any sense of identity she may have had." Ruby stepped forward, her expression fierce. "I will burn this city to the ground before I let that happen!"

Opal scowled. "And what makes you think I'll say yes? Because you asked so nicely?"

Ruby grinned darkly. "No. But because of this." She reached into her pocket, pulling out a plastic bag. Within it was an empty paper cup, its insides stained with dried coffee. Around the cup's rim were smudges of rose-colored lipstick. The same that donned Opal's lips now. Sensing victory, Ruby wiggled the bag. "This was yours, no doubt. You drank from it. That means there's enough DNA sampling in here to prove it."

"Prove what?" Opal tried to sound angry but simply seemed scared.

"That your life is a big, fat lie." Ruby grinned. "I know a really good scientist. Totally off the books, so good luck bribing him not to take my case. All it will take is this cup, and a quick swab in my own mouth to prove we're related."

"So what?" Opal laughed. "It may prove we're related, but it won't prove that you're-"

"No," Ruby smirked, "but the confidential files that Strange kept of my case will. They're at home, under my bed, right now. And you'll find they're quite intimately written."

Opal stood there, feeling lost. Like she'd just dug herself a hole and now couldn't climb out. She sat down, shivering in spite of herself. Ruby towered over her. "I'm giving you a choice, Opal. Perhaps the first decent choice you've made all your life. The first is that you give me the child and sign away your paternal rights. You agree never to contact me, or her, for as long as you live. You can tell your cousin-lover whatever you want; that you didn't want her, that you took pity on a sterile woman, whatever you wish. And I'll disappear from your life forever."

Ruby leaned in close, so that her words burned Opal's ear. "Or, you refuse. By this time tomorrow, all of America will know that you **_fucked_** your own brother since you two were tweens. Everyone will know that you cheated on your husband and feigned an abortion when you saw the child's deformities. I'll tell them of how I spent the first eighteen years of my life locked in an attic, receiving food from blindfolded servants and only being allowed out at night, sometimes, with a hood over my head. And I'll tell how you and your brother-lover abandoned me in Arkham, and shut me out of your lives once I was released. Everything will be laid out, Opal, and there will be nothing you can do about it. You'll lose your credibility and your career, obviously, and then you'll go to prison. Knowingly committing incest lands you _sixteen years_ in prison. But you did it _twice_ , and produced children _twice_." Ruby sniggered. "Man, I can see the headlines now."

"Okay, fine!" Opal dumped the child into Ruby's arms, looking down at her Prada shoes. "Take the runt! Do what you like with her. Drown her, for all I care." It felt almost good to be honest, even if it was in the presence of her most hated foe. "Just...don't." She looked up with watery, defiant eyes. "I'll mail you proof that I gave up custody of the child, so you'll believe me. Will we be even then?"

"Sure." Ruby admitted. "But I'll keep that cup, just to be safe."

Opal sputtered. "But, but you said-"

"That I'd disappear from your life, and I will. But if you ever start giving me doubts, I'll be happy to have this little piece of leverage." Ruby gave a little bow, holding the baby close. "Good day, Opal. And good luck on the interview."

Opal growled. "You are a monster."

Ruby stopped at the doorway. Turned back to her. Then, deftly, morphed her face to resemble Jasper's. Opal gasped. Ruby, wearing her father's face, smirked. "Takes one to know one."

She slammed the door behind her, leaving Opal to burst into tears.

* * *

Far from the city's limits, but never from its corruption, the Van Dahl mansion stood solemnly. Its bricks were damp from the recent rainfall, the rosebushes hunched over. Aside from a few curious squirrels digging up the nuts that Ruby had buried before leaving, the front lawn was still as a painting. Inside, the fireplace crackled comfortingly as it case shadows on the walls. The smell of burning wood, mixed with lemony polisher, gave the air a familiar tang.

Just for a second, Oswald remembered the first winter he'd spent here. Mere weeks after he and Ruby had done away with Grace and her wicked offspring, burning their credit cards and tossing away the utensils used to carve them, they had spent a rainy afternoon here. Oswald had been consumed by an Edgar Allen Poe novel, shivering despite the fire's warmth, while Ruby had added to her geology notes. Then, all of a sudden, Ruby had said, "I feel like having some s'mores, want some?" Oswald, who had only heard of the camp snacks from television, could only stare at her blankly. Minutes later had seen Ruby deftly preparing half a dozen of the mashmellow-chocolate sandwiches, half of which had been for Oswald. Delighted by the surprisingly delicious treat, he'd ended up eating hers as well and getting sick. Ruby had been there the whole time, patting his back as he'd vomited and then cooking him some clear broth.

But those times had come and gone. Just like Ruby. The recollection only drove the daggers deeper into Oswald's heart.

Clearing his throat, he returned his attention to Edward. "Have we made any progress on the Waterfront Association?"

"Yes. I've spoken with the Union leader. He agreed to our offer. So those photos can go back in the vault." The man in green, standing over Oswald, smiled wistfully. He placed a document in front of his friend. He got it back, signed, a second later.

Oswald gave a weak chuckle at the memory of the photos. "They were quite saucy, weren't they?" He asked, "And how about the-?"

"Your approval for the new casino should come through tomorrow. Demolition can begin right away." Edward reported. Oswald smiled, feeling his wounded heart fill to the brim with love. Just seeing this man, and all that he was and represented, was better than all the roses in the world. Perhaps the sweet scent would conceal his pain. "Ed, I cannot tell you how good it is to see you back to your old self."

Edward smiled sadly. Then, he placed a final document within Oswald's easy reach. "Just one last signature."

Oswald, pen at hand, bent down to skin through the contents. They curdled within his mind like sour milk. He looked up at Edward, incredulous. "This is your resignation." He silently dared his friend to deny it.

Edward closed his eyes. Inhaled. "Isabella's death has altered things, and Ruby's departure didn't help. I can't continue-"

"NO!" Oswald shot up despite the lightning bolt of agony it shot through his leg. Desperation sizzled in his head like oil in a pan. All he could think about was Ed, wonderful, intelligent, splendid Ed, leaving him as Ruby had. Leaving him alone with so many good memories and what may have been. It would kill Oswald faster and more painfully than any sword, poison, or bullet could. "Ed, I cannot let you leave!" Suddenly realizing how much emotion had bled onto the surface, he tried to regain composure - if only a bit - and lowered his voice. "It's not in your best interest. You have to stay busy."

Edward stared at him. Barbara's words whispered in his ear, enticing as they were venomous. He knew that what he was about to do was objectively wrong, not to mention risky, but he had to be certain. Lest he go mad. Clearing his throat he looked down, trying to appear bashful. "How shall I put this?" He eyed the mayor. "We're friends. Aren't we, Oswald?"

Oswald's terrified expression melted into one of happiness - or at least joyful relief. "Of course!"

Edward swallowed. "Since the accident...and I, I never thought that this could happen..."

Oswald looked at him with large, watery eyes.

Edward continued. "I've had the desire to become more than 'employer' and 'employee'."

Oswald's eyes became almost cartoonishly huge. His cheeks were flushed in seconds.

Edward added, "More than friends." The last piece of bait.

Oswald could hardly believe it. Was this a dream? The sweetest, most delicious kind of dream that there was? Had he died in his sleep and gone to heaven? If so, he never wanted his feet to touch the ground again. He grasped the front of Edward's suit like a drowning man. "I have been feeling the same!"

Edward said nothing. He watched.

"I didn't want to mention it because off all the awfulness about Isabelle-"

"Isabell-a." Edward corrected robotically.

Oswald shuddered in short-lived embarressment before looking up at his friend - his love - the way he'd been wanting to for ages. "But one cannot deny love."

Edward gasped, his entire body freezing.

Oswald kept grinning up at him...until he realized that his smile wasn't being reciprocated. Letting go of Edward with a mixture of nervousness and concern, he asked, "W-what is it? What's wrong?"

Edward could feel tears filling his eyes. He tried not to blink, lest they escape. Yet even as his vision blurred, he felt everything else go black. His life. His mind. His heart. "There's..." He managed to spit it out. "There's been a misunderstanding. I was...going to propose that we become partners." Oswald stared at him. Edward clarified: "Business partners."

Oswald stood there, feeling more humiliated than he had ever been in his life. All the wedgies in elementary school, all the scorned crushes, extended shins, mockery and cat-calls...none of it could compare to this. More than anything, Oswald wished that Ruby were here. She could have fixed this in an instant. Or at least offered him the comfort he desperately needed. She was his leverage, and he was falling. Oswald swallowed. His mouth felt as though it'd been filled with sand. "Business partners." He echoed. "But..."

"Excuse me." Edward fled, not looking back.

Oswald watched him go, his vision growing blurry.

* * *

Ruby hummed softly as she cradled the baby, who she had bathed and fed since returning home. Now wrapped up in a cashmere shawl, the child was the very picture of healthy. Or at least she would be. Now that she'd had the chance to get a closer look, Ruby had been horrified to see that the child was skeletal. The shape of her skull was very visible, as were her delicate little ribs. Seeing this had infuriated Ruby. Opal must have only fed the child when it was absolutely necessary. Only a couple of months old, from the looks of it, and Opal had already been trying to beautify her.

Just for a second, Ruby wondered if Opal had tried that method on her, too. Starving a newborn to ensure that, as an adult, her daughter would be fashionably thin. Then, Ruby decided that it didn't matter. She placed the child back on the bed. Until she had the time to buy a crib, the baby would sleep with her. To be honest, the thought reassured Ruby. That, in her sleep, Fate wouldn't try to rob her of this rescued infant.

A faint crash from below caught Ruby's attention. Then, a familiar voice yelled faintly, "'Scuse me, pardon me! Comin' through here! Sorry, lady!"

A second later Mercury burst through Ruby's front door, her spare key in his hand. In the other was a massive bouquet filled with roses, daisies, lillies, and irises. Grinning from ear to ear, he held them out to her. Ruby's round, chinless face broke out into a smile. "Merc," she cooed, collecting the blossoms, "you didn't have to!" She held them close to her face, sniffing with delight. Mercury chuckled. "Yeah, well, it ain't every day I meet a new momma, now ain't that right?" He inched closer and tilted his head at the infant. "Is this the little ankle biter? Aw." Ruby moved over to make room for him, collecting the infant once more. As she held the child with one hand, she took the bouquet in the other. Her arm stretched across the apartment, towards the sink. Carefully, she filled a pitcher with water and placed the flowers there.

Mercury chuckled, tickling the infant's exposed tummy. The baby, in turn, gurgled happily. "Man, she's cute! Where'd ya get her?"

Ruby's joy momentarily fled, replaced by anger. She shook it off. Now was not the time. She forced a smile at her friend. "A...relative. She couldn't keep her." She looked down at the child, taking in her features. She had a heart-shaped face not unlike Opal's, with tiny ears and fair skin. If the few wisps of hair were any indication, the child would have hair the color of fire. Divine.

"Whatcha gonna call 'er?" Mercury asked, resting his chin on his knuckles.

"Hm." Ruby mused. "I always wanted to name a girl 'Garnet', if I had one. But she just doesn't seem like a 'Garnet', you know?"

"Just don't name her after a metal." Mercury pointed at himself in a not-so-subtle fashion. "The kids'll tear her apart."

"Yeah, I know." Ruby pondered, staring down at the child. "My...relative, she hadn't even named her yet, if the documents are any indication. So I can call her whatever I want."

"Well, why don't you call her after your boyfriend's mom?" Mercury asked. "What was it again? Gertrude, or something?"

Ruby's face became the color of a pomegranate. "The mayor wasn't - and isn't - my boyfriend."

"Really?" Mercury wiggled his eyebrows at her. "'Cause from what you said, the two o' yous spent more time together than my parents!"

Ruby groaned. "Change of subject. Now. Please."

It turns out there was no need. As the baby made another string of wordless noises, she began to open her eyes. Mercury and Ruby watched, so stunned that they did not realize that they were holding hands. The child opened her eyes and looked up at them with wonder. Her eyes were large and almond-shaped. And a brilliant shade of green.

Ruby smiled. Stroked the baby's velvety cheek. "Beryl." She stated. "It's a Greek name that refers to all green gems." Her smile widened, her heart swelling with a new kind of love. "This child is Beryl. And she is mine."


	75. Chapter 74

Chapter 74

Three days passed since the revelation. Horrid, like a pus-filled wound, it dominated every corner of Edward's mind. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on work, on the present, he kept casting his thoughts back on that awful moment.

 _"One cannot deny love."_

According to Oswald, sure. According to Edward, there was no denying betrayal, either.

Since that moment, Edward had been a mess. Incapable of eating or sleeping, he'd kept asking himself the same question over and over. Until at last he could take it no longer, and he had to find out the answer.

It did not take long to discover Ruby's new whereabouts. All it took was a bribe here and a whispered rumor there. Before Edward's lunch had finished its round in the microwave, he'd printed his former colleague's new address. Within an hour, he was there.

The neighborhood itself was hardly the Narrows, the 'poorest of the poor', but it would hardly appear in any rental ads soon. It was functional, but shabby. Everything was covered by soot or cobwebs. Abandoned cars crowded the sidewalk, which was as cracked as a dropped eggshell. The air was both sweet and dirty, like a patch of unwashed skin. Edward hugged himself. Standing there, in his expensive green suit, he felt like he was wearing a sign around his neck reading, _Please rob me!_

Edward saw the one thing he wished to in this depressing place: the name 'Sinclair', fresh ink on clean paper, next to one of the buzzers. He pressed it all too enthusiastically. There was a moment of inactivity. Edward considered buzzing again when there was a click. A slightly out-of-breath Ruby spoke. _"Hello?"_

"Ruby?"

There was a second's pause.

Then: _"What're you doing here, Ed?"_ The voice was nervous. On edge.

"I came to talk with an old friend. Is that okay?" Edward swallowed hard.

 _"Uh - you're not smoking or anything, are you?"_

Edward frowned, puzzled by the question. "Er, no. I don't smoke."

 _"Okay, then. I don't have work today, anyway."_ There was a clack as the building's front door unlocked. _"Come on up. Floor three. Apartment 318."_

"Roger that." Edward pushed the rusty gate open, entering the dim corridor. It smelled of wet cement and something rotten. He plugged his nose like a child about to dive into a swimming pool. Cautiously, he looked about. There was a homeless man sleeping underneath the mailboxes, his callous feet sticking out of a well-worn mattress. Disgusted, Edward practically jogged his way to the barebone elevator. Rather than proper walls, it relied on close-set metal bars to keep it afloat. As he ascended, Edward felt like the world's largest turkey stuffed in an ugly cage. At last he found himself before a door bearing the number 318. He could feel his heart in his throat, yet he struggled to remain calm. With a quick gulp he rapped his knuckles.

A second later, the door was unbolted and swung open. Ruby stood there, looking exactly the same yet entirely different. She was dressed very casually: a too-large gray shirt with Link from Zelda printed on the front. Underneath it, she wore baggy trousers that Edward had only ever seen in hip hop music videos. Her feet were bare, her toenails painted a pearly pink. The jewelry of the day was a rutile necklace: long, glassy shards the color of congealed cherry jam. Her blonde-brown-gray curls were kept out of her face by a simple black headband, revealing her moon-face. Her eyes, like his, spoke of sleepless nights. But unlike him, she looked...happy. There was a glow in her aura that he had rarely seen in her.

But the aspect that drew Edward's attention the most was the infant in Ruby's arms. Half the length of his forearm and frightfully thin, the child had Ruby's peach skin accompanied by fuzzy red hair growing on her scalp. The child, dressed in a Winnie-the-Pooh shirt and a diaper, clung to Ruby's top and looked at him with curious green eyes.

Edward felt the saliva in his mouth dry up, but he quickly recomposed himself. "How - what is...?"

Ruby's eyes widened. She laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, no, no! This is Beryl, my ward." She peered down at the baby. Speaking in a soft coo, she whispered, "Beryl, sweetie, this is Ed. He's a nice man. Say hello!" Playfully, she took one of the baby's tiny hands and used it to wave at Ed. The infant just stared on cluelessly. Edward smiled for the first time in days. "May I come in?"

"Sure." Ruby nodded, stepping aside. Edward ambled inside, and felt instant relief. The apartment, unlike the outside world, was warm and smelled of perfumed candles. An air purifier stood guard in the corner, humming as it rotated mechanically. The living room was sparse, but homey. Dominated by second-hand but very clean furiniture, the place also bore framed pictures of gems. Rose quartz. Amethyst. Emerald. Sapphire. The windows were small, but let in a nice amount of natural lighting. Sitting on the coffee table was a stereo playing Owl City. Books were piled on every available surface, as were children's toys. In the kitchen, which occupied a third of the living room, there were letter magnets on the fridge and a jar filled with fresh-baked cinammon buns.

The place felt like home, plain and simple.

Ruby chuckled at Edward's face. "Close your mouth, or you'll get flies in."

Edward obeyed, feeling more than a little out of place. Ruby swept past him, still holding the child close. "Man, I was _not_ expecting this at all! What can I get you? Coffee, tea? Mercury just brought in some really nice Earl Grey-"

"Er," Edward cut in nervously. "Just, uh, water will be fine."

"Okay." Ruby nodded. Never letting go of Beryl, she made her way to the fridge. "You go ahead, sit anywhere you want. I'll be there in a second."

"Of course." Nervously, Edward seated himself on the faded leather couch. Up close, he saw a few children's books were still open. Dr. Seuss, mostly. It was peculiar to see such simplistic literature mixed in with textbooks of geology and the foundations of the earth.

Ruby, who had grown an additional pair of arms to complete her task, looked curiously at Edward.

The silence, softened only by Owl City's whimsical soundtrack, was awkward. Neither had truly spoken since Ruby's departure, and Edward still could not help but feeling betrayed by someone that he'd come to care about. Ruby, in turn, felt guilty for not having saluted her new friend as he had deserved. Prepared to face the elephant in the room, she broke the quietude. "So...how is everything?"

Edward shrugged. Pushed his glasses up. "As usual, I suppose."

Ruby paused. "How's Oswald?"

"Come home and you'll find out."

Ruby sighed, closing her eyes. "Ed-"

"No, really." Edward turned to face her as she approached him, carrying a tray. On it stood two glasses of iced water and a bottle filled with milk. Sitting down across from him, Ruby set the tray down. Her extra arms retracting, she collected the bottle and fed it to Beryl. All the while avoiding Edward's gaze, she tilted the baby's head back and held the bottle firmly. Edward waited, chewing on his bottom lip. He watched Ruby as he mentally went over his discussion. The way she kept her eyes on the baby, the way she smiled as it burped and wiped some dribble from its pouty lips...it spoke of a warmth that almost didn't belong in Gotham. Just like that, Edward could all too easily believe the way Ruby had supposedly looked out for Oswald when he'd been brainwashed.

Suddenly, a thought struck him. "Mercury?"

Ruby barely looked up. "Hm?"

"You mentioned a 'Mercury' before."

"Oh, he's my coworker and friend. Sweet guy." Ruby chuckled. "He's been here practically every day since I brought Beryl home." Her smile lingered. "He's kinda like her daddy."

"So you two are-?"

"No, no." Ruby shook her head. "He's great, really. A Beatnik through and through. But I don't think he's my type."

"So you're not over Oswald yet?"

Ruby's smile disappeared. Sighing, she finally turned to look him in the face. "What is it, Ed?" She suddenly looked far older than her years.

"I just want some answers." Edward leaned back in the sofa. "About Isabella's death."

Some of the rosiness left Ruby's cheeks. Yet her expression remained guarded. "What about it?"

"Did you know?" Edward forced the words out. Praying that they would be met with negation. When Ruby didn't answer, he asked again. More forcefully. "Did you know that Oswald would have my love killed? Out of jealousy? Because he's _in love_ with me?"

Ruby's eyes filled with tears. A few of them splashed onto Beryl's face, warm and salty, as her caretaker glared at Edward. "I knew that last bit for sure. I couldn't forget for the life of me! ** _Every day_** I saw him look at you that way, every day, while I died inside. Knowing that what I felt for him wasn't returned, not even by a _fraction!_ Do you have any idea how that feels?" Ruby was crying now that, after so long, she was finally being allowed to express how she felt. "I...I'd been planning to tell him, right then and there, when I overheard him saying how you're his _one true love_." Ruby spat out those last words as though they tasted foul. "I wanted to die, right then and there! Now I'm glad I didn't, because of this little one." She cradled Beryl, who was thoroughly enjoying the warm rain caressing her face.

Edward sat there, stunned. For the first time since the revelation, he realized how this must have impacted Ruby. He'd known that she loved Oswald, perhaps had loved him since the very beginning. Now that he had this new piece of information, Edward was finally able to understand why Ruby had distanced herself from Oswald.

But despite this new comprehension, he was far from satisfied.

He leaned forward, his eyes trained on her. "You didn't answer my question: did you know what Oswald did?"

Ruby's eyes, still glassy with tears, widened. She turned away, silent.

That was the moment when Edward's patience ran dry. Without warning he jumped to his feet. He snatched the baby from Ruby's hands and hurried to the window. " ** _Hey!_** " Ruby shouted. Edward opened the window and dangled the screaming baby over the fifty-foot drop. Ruby crashed against him. She fought like a wildcat, trying to reach past him to grab Beryl, yet her limbs did not elongate. Clearly, her terror had momentarily made her forget her powers. Edward pushed her back, dangling the wailing infant over the empty space. "So? So?! Did you?!"

" **LET HER GO, YOU BEAST!** " Ruby punched him in the jaw. The impact loosened his hold on the baby. Yet before Beryl could fall, Ruby's arms stretched out like taffy and coiled around her. Quickly pulling her back inside, Ruby cradled the weeping baby. Hugged her close, she hushed her gently. "It's okay, honey. It's okay. Mama's here, Mama's here." Hugging the child to her chest, Ruby looked up at Edward. There was a betrayal and hurt in her eyes that hurt almost as much as the punch had. "What in the hell is the matter with you?! She's only a baby! An innocent baby!"

"No one's innocent." Edward rubbed his aching jaw. "Not in this city." He lowered his hand, glaring at Ruby. "So. You knew."

Ruby said nothing, only rocked and patted Beryl.

Edward's lips became a thin line. "You betrayed me."

"I..." Ruby sighed, closing her eyes. "I didn't know he'd targeted Isabella. Not until afterwards."

"That's why you left." Edward realized out loud. "But why hide the truth from me?"

"Because I couldn't choose." Ruby admitted, anger lacing her remorse. "Oswald is the first real friend I ever had, and I...I love him." She laughed bitterly, humorlessly. "He's hurt me, but I still love him. That's not logical, I know."

 _"Love isn't logical."_ Isabella's voice whispered in Edward's ear. He gulped.

"And you..." Ruby shook her head. "I couldn't stand you at first. But then I got to know you, and I started to care." She stroked Beryl's cheek. "I couldn't choose. You're both my friends. Or..." She glared at him. "Were, at least."

"I should take that baby from you right now." Edward growled. "I should grab her and bash her against the wall until her brains spill out. I should force you to watch. I should make you hold her body afterwards. I should make you feel everything I've felt since Isabella died."

All remorse and sorrow had left Ruby's face. Her visage was stone brimming with lava. "You won't live to feel your fingers touch her skin."

The two of them stood there, separating by only a few feet - but so much more. Torn apart by differing loyalties and past pains, they watched their slowly blossoming friendship shrivel and die. In its place was a pile of smoldering ashes of what could have been.

Edward's jaw, still aching, set. "I got what I came for."

Ruby spat viciously in his face. The glob hit his cheek and slowly moved towards his chin. He stood there, unmoving, as she snarled, "If you're not out of this neighborhood in five minutes, I'll call the police. And if you ever come near Beryl again, I'll fucking kill you."


	76. Chapter 75

Chapter 75

The next day, the newspapers announced that Mayor Cobblepot would be giving an author, Kyle Davis, an award that only the mayor could. This would take place in the public library, where no doubt the press would be waiting.

Good. Ruby could hide in the crowd while still get close to him.

She stared at her reflection critically, carefully, as she dressed. Her velvet dress, a rich forest-green, spilled over her form and puddled to the ground. A satin sash around the waist gave the gown a more defined form. Around her neck sat a gathering of emeralds, all ranging from pea-green to tea-green to almost teal. Each gem, connected to each other with delicate silver wires, shone like a cat's eye. With the slightest dash of eyeliner and lip gloss, Ruby stepped back. Took a breath.

Beyond the walls of her bedroom she heard noises. Mercury's sweet voice, playfully cooing. Beryl's gurgles of delight. A toy piano clinking cheerfully. Ruby didn't move, lest she somehow disrupt. She listened to Mercury play with her little girl, laughing and applauding her every little accomplishment. Tears filled indigo-blue eyes. Ran down her face when thoughts of yesterday flashed by. Of poor Beryl, hanging fifty feet in the polluted air, held up by an uncaring hand.

Ruby never should have let that monster through the front door.

Wiping her eyes, she tried to think of her goal. Of her love, lest he meet a far more dire feet.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the living room. The sight waiting for her twisted her heart. Mercury was sitting on the couch, little Beryl on his lap. Cheek to cheek, they both played the small piano that he'd found in his baby box. The song was tuneless and jangled. It was the loveliest melody that Ruby had ever heard.

Mercury, sensing her presence, looked up. Their eyes met, and a thousand words flitted between them. Setting the piano down, the young man carried the infant towards her guardian. "She's actually a pretty nifty player." Mercury winked playfully at Ruby. "I betcha she's gonna pick it up one day."

"I hope so." Ruby smiled solemnly. She looked down at the baby and felt a rush of both sorrow and love. She had not separated herself from the child since she'd first brought her home. But beyond that, she imagined Edward borrowing some of Oswald's men. Coming here once he realized that the baby was vulnerable. Ruby reached out and hugged the baby close. Beryl nuzzled into Ruby's neck, making a string of incomprehensible noises. Ruby kissed the child's fuzzy forehead, breathed in her clean scent, before facing Mercury. He looked at her with concern. "You don't hafta do this."

Ruby nodded sadly. "Yes, I do."

"Do you really think he'd do the same for you?" Mercury was unable to keep the bitterness completely out of his voice.

Ruby thought about Oswald dragging her to the hospital following the fight with Galavan. His stopping her on the roof. His defending her honor in front of the press and appointing her first deputy mayor. But above all, Ruby remembered all of the little moments that solidify their bond. Her heart lurched.

At last, she found her voice. "It doesn't matter whether he'd do the same for me. Oswald and I may have fused, but we go back to being individuals the second we split up." When Mercury bit his lip, Ruby's hand found his thin hair. Tugging it gently. The young man cracked a smile despite his inner shell of concern. Ruby simpered back, hoping that she looked reassuring. "I'll be back for lunch. Are you sure you don't mind keeping her?"

Mercury rolled his eyes playfully at her. "Babe, I told ya already. I noodled it out, and it's fine. If anything else, it'll give me and this baby doll some time to bond." He peered down at the child, beaming from ear to ear. "Ain't that right?"

In response, Beryl chirped and seized his long nose. The sight made Ruby giggle. Suddenly filled with affection for this young man, she trapped him in a quick hug. Mercury gasped at the unexpected gesture. His eyes grew to the size of plates. "Thank you." Ruby whispered. "I...really need a friend right now. And you more than fit the bill."

Mercury closed his eyes. Gave a dim smile as she pulled away. "No sweat."

Ruby examined her wristwatch. "I'd better go, or I'll miss it." She blew him a friendly kiss as she grabbed her bag. "See you later! Thanks again!"

Mercury watched her go until the closing door blocked her from view. A conflicted look flickered across his face. One that crossed between desire and conflict. He sighed, hugging the child close. Instinctively feeling that Beryl was growing hungry, he brought her into the kitchen where a warmed bottle of milk awaited.

* * *

The library was just as Ruby remembered it.

Spacious as a small village with dozens of bookshelves acting as houses, the ambiance was one of knowledge and wonder. Stepping into the familiar scents of old paper and wood polisher, Ruby found herself admiring what she had once taken almost for granted. The chandelier above her head, glittering like a jar of new pennies. Portraits of the library's founders hung proudly on the walls. The shelves were of deep chestnut wood, no doubt decades old, and the floors were soft with age-old carpets.

Against her better judgement, Ruby found herself remembering the happy afternoons that she'd spent here. First as a servant desperate to escape her Master's horrible wife. Then, as a friend eager to share a treasure.

Ruby swallowed hard. But the lump in her throat only grew larger. One memory in particular blossomed before her mind's eye, taking up her vision.

* * *

 _It had been thirteen months ago, but the weather had been just as it was today. Gloomy. Promising rain. Damp. But none of that had stopped Oswald from shrugging off his coat as he'd marched inside like he owned the place. Ruby had tagged along, her own jeans jacket in her uncertain hands. Laughing good-naturedly at her friend's hobble, she'd asked in a low voice, "What're you doing? I thought I was taking the lead here."_

 _"Oh, you shall." Oswald had flashed her a devilish smirk that had turned her knees to jelly. "But first, if you wish, I would like to play a little game."_

 _Ruby had cocked a brow._

 _Oswald had made his way towards the stairs. But before he could take the first step, Ruby had taken his hand. Bashfully smiling his thanks, the kingpin had allowed himself to be helped. They had soon made their way to the upper floor, where the center had been cut away to provide a wonderous view of below. Bookshelves planted there reached out to the second floor, connecting the two like ladders. Up here, one could fully grasp how large and wondrous the library was. Ruby had vaguely remembered spotting the bratty Charles here once, then had proceeded to fling spit-balls at him. He had been none the wiser, and Ruby had risked being kicked out for laughing._

 _Smiling, Ruby had asked, "So, what now?"_

 _To answer, Oswald had summoned two pairs of binoculars from his jacket's inner pockets. Smirking at his friend's stunned expression, he had explained. "Fine people walk in and out of these door each day. Wealthy Gothamites in search of projects to fund, hence their examinations of the papers. Younglings seeking jobs, thusly using the available free WiFi. Even a newbie criminal looking for a guide. The list goes on. Thus, I would like us to weed out the unneeded and find a few candidates."_

 _Ruby had accepted the outstretched binoculars with a shrug. But before long, she had found herself chuckling._

 _Oswald had turned to her with a quirked eyebrow. "What's funny?"_

 _Ruby had gestured for him to come closer. When he had, she'd pointed to a father and young son. The father, rather than read, had been amusing himself with his lighter. Staring into it as he summoned the flame, only to let it die out. The boy had been too absorbed in his comic book to care. When Oswald had only looked confused, Ruby had deepened her voice to comical degrees. "And the lord saideth: thou shalt make a burnt offering of your first-born son."_

 _Oswald had sniggered, encouraging Ruby to continue. Making her voice break and shake a pubescent boy's, she had asked, "Whatcha talkin' 'bout, Dad?"_

 _Deepening her voice again, she had answered the question. "Oh, nothing Billy. But see the flame here? See how the colors change? Lean in a little. Closer. Closer!"_

 _Oswald had snorted, covering his mouth with his hand. His original intentions already fading, he had countered her joke by mimicking what a girl with a laptop may have said: "The Wi-Fi here is as stuffy as the air!"_

 _The two had gone on like that for a good portion of the afternoon, putting comical words into people's mouth while no one suspected a thing._

* * *

Ruby wiped her eyes dry of the tears she hadn't realized had arrived. Clearing her throat, she kept to the shadows. No doubt Edward would be there. And Ruby didn't trust herself enough to be in his presence. Peering at the gathering from behind a shelf of books, she soon found the right spot. Surrounded by the flashing of cameras, like halos in a holy spot, a calm voice reverberated across the hall. It reached into Ruby's heart and squeezed hard. She watched, careful, collected.

Oswald looked divine, as always, as he held the gold-plated award. Robed all in black, from his coat to his leather gloves, he was like a drop of petrol: ebony at first glance, but in reality shimmering with muted colors. His face was pale and thinner than she'd last seen it, and his eyes shone like Christmas ornaments. Yet there was something off about his expression. A falsehood in that smile, a stiffness to his posture.

Edward was only a few feet away. His expression was as dark as an eclipse.

Ruby stayed on alert. Listening. Watching.

"It is with great pleasure that I present this award to Mr. Kyle Davis," Oswald turned the man standing beside him without really seeing him, "for his magnificent book. _Gotham Sewers: An Oral History_." While his words were politically corrected and properly slathered in flattery, the delivery was wooden. Ruby immediately sensed that something was amiss. It was possible that Oswald could've been distracted by his sheer **_love_** for Edward, but he had never permitted it to distract him in the past. No. It had to be something else.

Swallowing hard, Ruby slipped on a new face the same way one would put on a pair of sunglasses. Then, she hid her necklace beneath her dress's collar lest the jewels reveal her to Edward. As the crowd broke into applause, she acted quickly. Weaving her way past the flashing cameras and stalling, clapping by-standers, she soon found Oswald. He was already turning to look at - who else? - Edward.

But before he could make his way towards the Chief of Staff, he felt a hand grasp his sleeve. His emotions prickling like a clump of urchins, he spun around to face the intruder. It was a woman he didn't recognize, somewhere between thirty and thirty-five. Her hair was brown. Her skin was brown. Her eyes were amber-hued, and they were focused on his neck. One of her manicured hands found the zircon acting as a knot for his tie. Smiling with a touch of sorrow, she traced the stone fondly. "You're still wearing it."

For a moment Oswald was confused. Then, his heart leapt. His hand found the woman's. "Ruby?"

The woman smiled. Her irises churned and shivered like melting icicles as they shed the illusion. In a moment, amber had darkened and frozen into indigo. "Hey, Oz."

Oswald's mouth suddenly felt as though he'd gargled bleach. Sucking in an urgent breath he looked about. Then, stepping a little closer to his friend, he whispered, "What're you doing here?"

Ruby's smile vanished. Her eyes - that familiar, lovely indigo - rested on something behind Oswald. "Not here." Grabbing his hand she pulled him out of view. The crowd, which had only truly shown up for Kyle Davis, did not seem to notice. Edward, in turn, was just staring out the window with an unreadable expression.

Now safe behind piles of unregistered books, Ruby shed her disguise. Seeing her filled Oswald's heart with joy, and all of a sudden the three months of their separation melted away like butter on a skillet. "Ruby." He said again, simply for the sake of it.

"Oswald." Ruby replied for the same reason. They embraced tightly, with her letting out a string of gasps. She hadn't allowed herself to think of how much she'd missed him. His essence. The solid form engulfing her, the sweet cologne tickling her nose. The warmth. Ruby wanted to hold onto all of this and never let go. Despite everything he'd done, all that had happened...Ruby still loved him. She knew that with the same certainty that the moon would come out at night.

When they finally broke apart Oswald's eyes were watery. "I never gave up on you. I had them send you a letter each day." He smiled. " _Each day!_ For-"

"Ninety-three days." Ruby smiled. "I have them all." She laughed a little. "I'm still amazed you don't have a fan club, with the things you can write."

"But why did you not respond?" Oswald asked, more hurt than accusing. "Were you _that_ angry with me?"

"I was until Day 42." Ruby admitted. "Then, I wanted to. But time kind of slipped away." Smirking at Oswald's puzzled expression, she reached into her pocket and held out a photo. Oswald's eyes widened. In it showed Ruby, her shirt and face smeared with cookie dough, as she laughingly held up a baby for the photographer to capture. The child was small and a little too thin, but her (Oswald assumed it was a girl from the pink bib) skin was glowing with nourishment. Her hair was frizzy and the color of fire. Those eyes, big and green, sparkled like seawater.

Oswald turned back to Ruby, who was eyeing the picture with a sad longing. "How did-?"

"Opal." Ruby rolled her eyes as she pocketed the photo once more. "She had another child, this time with her cousin."

Oswald shuddered.

"My thoughts exactly." Ruby nodded. "So I blackmailed her into giving me the baby. She was already starving the poor dear. Who knows what else she'd have done?" She shook her head. "But that's not why I'm here."

Taking his hands, Ruby told Oswald what had happened. She told him of Edward visiting her house, asking her to come home, and then after stalling with some small-talk, had demanded to know whether or not she'd partaken in Isabella's demise. With barely-suppressed rage she told of how, with his patience running low, Edward had grabbed the baby and dangled her out the window with nothing but fifty feet of empty air below. She told of her punching Edward's jaw, and threatening to kill him should he ever lay a hand on the child again.

She told this all without ever breaking eye contact. Begging him to believe her.

When at last she finished, Ruby found that she was almost crying from the memory. Both at having lost a friend and almost losing a surrogate daughter. Oswald reached out and gently wiped her ears away with his sleeve. "I am so sorry." He whispered earnestly. "Edward was completely out of line. Had I known, I'd have whipped him for such insubordination."

"You may have to whip him for real." Ruby caught the hand near her face. Clasped it between both her own. "Oswald, _Edward knows_. He knows what you did. You're not safe. Please." She swallowed. "Please...let me at him."

Oswald's eyes widened at the implication.

Ruby continued. "It'll be over in seconds. He won't suffer."

Oswald tore his hand out of hers. "How can you suggest such a thing?!" It took all of his effort to keep his voice down. "Ruby, I - I love Edward!"

"And he knows you killed his girlfriend!" Ruby countered. "So I seriously doubt he loves you back. Please!" She was borderline begging now. "I lost your father. I can't lose you, too!" Oswald stopped, pinned into place like a butterfly on display. He could only look into those weeping eyes, that desperate expression, and understood. Ruby had cared about Ed too, until recently. She had only offered to end his life as a means of protecting them all. And Oswald knew that she was more than able to perform the deed. Oswald sighed. Then, he held his arms out to her. She walked into them, spent from emotion. He held her, stroking her wild curls even as they tickled his nose and got into his eyes.

"Ruby...thank you. Thank you for telling me." He pulled away. "But worry not. I have a bloodless solution to all of this."

Ruby raised her eyebrows.

Oswald smiled. "During your, er, departure, I enlisted a gang of drug-dealers. Forty percent of their dealings are directly wired into my bank account. And they specialize in cerebral substances."

Ruby nodded as she pieced the puzzle together. "So you could get some kind of amnesia-inducing product from them, and maybe slip them in Edward's food or drink..."

"...And Edward would forget all about this unhappy discovery." Oswald smiled, already pleased at the prospect. "He would forget what he'd learned, and recall only that his bookish vixen died in an accident. He would definitely forget your encounter, and my involvelment. All would be as it had been." He smiled, eager. "You could come home."

"Home." The word tasted bittersweet on Ruby's lips. She thought of the vegetable garden that had filled their bellies no matter the season. Of the well-worn banister that provided support during the laborious walk between floors. The multiple dining halls, sitting rooms, saloons, and bathrooms; each one imprinted with one memory or another. The rose bushes guarding the front entrance, their blossoms flashing red and white like cards. The armchair that her Master - and now, Oswald - had loved to sit in during chilly evenings, cup of tea in hand.

Her attic bedroom.

A lump formed in Ruby's throat. But she was determined not to let her wavering show. Oswald's hands found her shoulders. "Please, Ruby. Once Edward forgets, nor you nor the child would be in any danger." His eyes were absurdly large. "Please. I...truly miss you."

"I miss you, too." Ruby admitted. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Okay. But on two conditions."

"Anything."

 _Love me_. The words were right there, lodged in her heart. Unable to escape from the shackles of doubt. Instead, she said, "There's this guy I work with. Mercury. He's been a great friend, and he's acted sort of like a father figure for the kid. So if I'm to return, I want you to find him a place in your ranks. Ideally, one that doesn't put him at risk of being shot or stabbed."

Oswald nodded. "Done. And the second one?"

Ruby straightened. "I'm not coming back until after he's been affected by the drugs, and forgotten everything." She cocked a brow. "Do we have a deal?"

Oswald cupped her face. Brought it close to his. Ruby froze with baited breath. Oswald's cool lips found her forehead, gentle yet firm. Ruby closed her eyes, savoring the sensation, until the connection died. Oswald met her eyes with a smirk. "Sealed with a kiss." Ruby smiled back, grateful for the dark.

Little did they know that the dark had concealed something else, too. Someone. A tall, thin man with large glasses and green clothes. A man who slipped out of earshot, silent as a shadow, with a scowl on his face and a plan forming in his head.


	77. Chapter 76

Chapter 76

Night descended onto Gotham. Its cold, damp fist closed around the city's throat. It was almost as tight as the grip with which Tabitha Galavan's wounded hand clutched a knife. Or tried to.

A bracelet of puckered flesh and stitch marks circled her wrists. Above it, her fingers would not obey her. No matter how much strength she tried to pump into them, they would not close completely around the blade. With a frustrated snarl she tossed it aside. "I can't even hold a knife!" She complained to Butch and Barbara. Fury burning her, she added, "I swear, when I see Nygma..."

Butch's large hand rested on her cast. Firm. Comforting. "We'll kill him together. Real slow."

"How sweet." Barbara commented. She would have said more had it not been for the Sirens' doors opening. Heads turned to see the source of fierce hatred and hopefulness. Tabitha, her lips becoming a thin line, took her martini glass and slammed it against the table's edge. Butch jumped to his feet, gun at the read. "Sunnuva bitch!"

Barbara leapt to her feet. Stood between the hunted and the hunter. "Hear him out!" When both her coworkers looked at her as though they suspected insanity, she added, "Please." Momentarily quelled they lowered their arms. Barbara turned to Edward, blue eyes wide.

The tall man had stepped deeper into the main hall - into the lion's den, some would have said. Once he was at a safe but audible distance, he spoke. "I don't want to kill him." He lowered his head, seemingly lost. Barbara stared, disappointment a cold crest in her heart. But when Edward raised his gaze again, it contained the heat of a thousand bonfires. "I want to _**destroy**_ him." A smile slowly spread across the blonde woman's face. He continued, widening the grin. "I want to take away everything that he loves. I want to ** _make_** him... ** _despised_**."

Butch frowned. "What're you talking about?"

"Penguin." Barbara smirked.

Edward stood there. Saying everything with his silence.

A delighted Barbara faced her coworkers. "He killed the librarian."

"What?" Tabitha lurched forward. Barbara stopped her, but barely. "And you cut off _my_ hand?" The dark-haired woman's voice was thick with anger.

Edward tilted his head. "I assume you want something?"

Barbara had to restrain a giggle. "With Penguin gone, the underworld will need a new leader. I think it's time Gotham had a woman's touch."

"The crime families will never follow you." Edward told her.

"Well, that's where you come in." Barbara explained. "You know the families, in and out. Not to mention you're a wiz at strategy." Edward closed his eyes for a second, smiling faintly. Barbara congradulated herself. Perfect. Every egotistic maniac wanted to be flattered. By feeding his already sky-high self-esteem, Barbara was baiting him. Soon, she could reel him in. "Think about it, Ed. Your brains, their brawn, my...me." She smiled. "We could make quite a team." Edward watched her carefully, but warmly, like a pie hot out of the oven. He was as of yet unsure if he wanted a slice. Only one way to find out. "We destroy Penguin first."

 _We_ , not _you_ or _I_.

"Of course." Barbara promised him. "But there is one thing you need to do." Sidestepping, she gestured to the concerned couple. Gave Ed a coy look. Understanding, he nodded. "Okay." Tabitha and Butch stood, on guard, as their enemy cleared his throat. After a second, he finally said, "I'm sorry about your hand."

Tabitha lunged forth again, hardly restrained by Butch. "Apology not accepted!"

"Yes, we'll get back to that. Drinks!" Barbara cheerily interrupted. Edward at last smiled. A true, wide smile.

* * *

Oswald stared down, his emotions all a-tumble. Sitting in the center of his palm was a pill no larger than a blueberry. Yet according to the files he'd confiscated from the drug gang, it had the power to erase ugly experiences. How had they described it? Like rubbing a sore foot until it stopped hurting. The chemicals in the pill searched for the most recent difficult experiences and simply wiped them away. A stressful week in preparation for an exam, for instance. Or a close relative's funeral. The pill found that memory and simply erased it, like chalk drawings in the rain.

To test it, Oswald had picked out a servant he'd known had recently suffered from a break-up and given him another pill. After taking it, the man had gone to sleep and woken up convinced that he was still engaged to be married.

Hopefully, this pill would target not Isabella's death, but Oswald and Ruby's 'betrayals'. Gods knows that must have hurt.

Sighing, he dropped the pill into the teacup. With a hiss and a fizzle, the light brown surface frothed over like an angry sea. When at last it faded, the hot beverage looked no different than it had before. And the drug dealers had assured him that this had come from their best batch. Flavorless, scentless. Oswald had graciously thanked them...before casually stating that he'd doubled his take on their profits, given the effectiveness of their stocks. When one had protested, Oswald had had his hands severed and his tongue ripped out. Nobody else had protested.

Oswald added a teaspoon of sugar, just to be safe. Stirring it thoroughly, he placed the cup and saucer onto a tray and brought it to Edward's room. His knuckles rapped against the polished wood. "Ed? I brought some tea."

"Come in." The voice awaiting inside was gruff. Distant. A lump formed in Oswald's throat. Clearing it he entered. Edward sat with his back to him, fingers drumming on the desk. He didn't turn or greet his friend. Oswald shivered, remembering the sinister words that Ed had whispered in his ear. _"You're my best friend as well, Oswald. Remember that."_ Had that been a threat? There was no way of knowing. Just a few hours ago, Oswald never would have considered it. But after Ruby's tale of babies being dangled from windows, it seemed all too likely. The prospect broke his heart. The only thing barring him from tears was the knowledge that tonight, it would be over.

He smiled as, finally, Edward twisted in his seat. "Hello. I thought, given this evening's chill, you might enjoy a cuppa. So," he awkwardly placed the cup near Edward's immobile hand, "Here. It's your favorite."

Edward stared at the steaming mug as though it were something that he had to dissect. Then, without ever changing facial expression, he nodded. "Thank you. I'll drink it in a bit."

Oswald hesitated, unsure of what to do. Should he remain, and ensure that Edward drank the tea? It would only make him look suspicious. Deciding on a compromise between paranoia and cloaking, he said, "Would you mind taking a sip first? I want to know if I put too much sugar, or not enough."

Edward looked up at him. Just like that he had the mayor pinned. Never breaking eye contact he took the mug and brought it to his lips. He took a sip, then nodded. "It's fine. Thank you."

Feeling a bit better, Oswald nodded and tried to smile. "Right. Well, goodnight, Ed."

"Night."

When Oswald returned to the corridor, he felt capable of breathing again. As though he'd left a stuffy old house and been welcomed by fresh, crisp air. But thinking about the cause of such closed-in air weighed on his heart. Swallowing, he retired upstairs. He shed clothing as he fumbled up the steps, all too ready to surrender to his velvet robe. The fireplace, alive with heat and color, was better than any painting in the world. Sighing, he unceremoniously dropped the clothes into the laundry basket. As he slipped into his robe, feeling the clean, soft cloth on his skin, the phone suddenly burst with life. Oswald stopped, watching the shrieking phone. No one ever called at this hour. All of his underlings knew better than to bother him. Edward had just seen him, and had clearly wished to be alone.

Which only left one person, excluding Jehovah's Witnesses and cellphone service salesmen.

Licking his lips, Oswald answered. "Hello?"

"Oz." That single word, barely more than a breath, brought back so much. So many emotions. So many feelings.

Oswald swallowed. "Ruby."

A faint, nervous chuckle. Oswald could see her now, leaning against the window. The telephone cord wrapped around her finger. "Sorry, maybe you were sleeping, but-"

"I wasn't." Oswald hoped he didn't sound too eager. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I just put Beryl to bed." Ruby's smile was aubile. "Went out like a light. It's really sweet."

Oswald sniggered. Sat on the bed. "I can hardly wait to meet her."

"I can hardly wait to introduce you two." Ruby answered. "I've brought her to the doctor. She doesn't seem to have the condition I had, but if symptoms show up, I have Professor Strange on speed dial."

"Strange?" Oswald frowned. "The man who treated you like a guinea pig for his experiments? The one who had me brainwashed?"

"He's also the one who cured me when no one else could." Ruby answered. "So, yeah. To keep Beryl safe, and healthy, I'd call on Hitler if he could be of help."

"Why're you doing this?" Oswald asked. "She may share your blood, but that hardly convinced your parents to treat you well. So why?"

There was a second's pause. Then: "Because I didn't want her to go through what I did. And even if she turned out to be healthy, well...Oz, Opal was already starving her. Who knows what else she'd have done, to have a pretty daughter? I couldn't stand by and watch. I just couldn't."

Oswald nodded, understanding her words. He had felt something quite similar towards Ed, back when the genius had been locked away in Arkham. Swallowing, he said. "Tell me about her."

Ruby was quiet, again, for a moment. She recognized the request for what it was: a desire to step into her life again. A peep into the last few months, that had been entirely hidden from his view. A chance to mend what had been broken. She smiled, and did as he asked.

For the next hour Ruby regaled her friend with tales of life with a baby. She told him how she kept the crib near her bed so that, at the first whimper, the child would be cared for. She told of Beryl being small enough to warrant baths in the sink, and the way the child giggled at all the bubbles. She told of Mercury playing with the baby when Ruby wasn't around, and how he'd taught her additional tricks to cease crying. She told him that Beryl already seemed to prefer certain fairy tales to others, and how she looked great in black and yellow. She also added, laughingly, of how she'd been forced to lock up her geology collection lest the baby try to swallow a stone.

Afterwards, she asked the same thing of Oswald. He was more than happy to do so. For the following hour and a half he told her of life as mayor. Of all of the charities he had visited, from campaigns against cruelty to animals to those meant to feed the poor. He'd been to more soup kitchens than he could count, and had warranted good public favor by 'convincing' multiple restaurant owners to send their weekly leftoevers to the nearest homeless feeding spot. What the public did not know was that, rather than words, he'd used knives and guns. He told her that he'd visited his mother's grave more often, and he'd left glass flowers that would never wilt. Oswald spoke of all the little business transactions that occured, either at home or in his office, and how lonely it had been without her.

He did not say this to manipulate her into returning, nor to make her feel guilty. He said this as a simple fact.

Ruby swallowed. "I miss you too, Oz."

Oswald said nothing, but smiled feebly.

"It wasn't an easy decision for me. At all. That mansion is the only home I've ever known. My Master's remains are there, probably little more than a skeleton now." She suddenly gasped. "His grave...they're keeping it clean, aren't they?"

"Of course." Oswald assured her. "Each morning the crypt is swept, and the leaves are cleared out. It's cleaner than most bedrooms, I believe."

"That's good." Ruby sighed. Then, after a moment, she said, "You really are your father's son, you know that?"

Oswald felt tears prickle his eyes. "Truly?" His voice felt thick and hoarse, as though he'd been yelling while gulping down maple syrup.

"Truly." Ruby's smile was once again audible. "Master was emotional, too. He married a woman he really didn't know that well, all to save her and her kids from a nasty situation. Whenever he'd read about some poor sucker who'd lost everything, Master would send him an anonymous cheque. He always listened to his heart, until more often than not his brain knew better and never spoke up." A second's pause. "I loved him more than I ever did my parents. Ever."

Oswald had been struggling not to cry at Ruby's kind words and the memory that they summoned. But at the last phrase, he felt the need to joke. If only to save himself from openly weeping over the phone. "I hope you don't see me as your father, Ruby. I'm only five years older than you, after all."

"Four years and eight months." Ruby corrected with a snigger. "And...no. I don't think of you like a family member. More like..." She caught herself. "A best friend, of course."

"Same here." Oswald confirmed. "You and Ed are the best friends I have ever had. It would kill me to lose either of you."

"Yeah." Ruby's voice became wobbly for a moment. "I know." Sucking in breath from clenched teeth, she asked, "Did you give him the pill?"

"Disguised as his favorite tea." Oswald answered. "By this time tomorrow he shall have forgotten this entire ordeal...and, I hope, you shall be home."

"I hope so too, Oz." Ruby sighed. "It'll be nice to be back in my old room. To be able to look down at the vegetable patches, and the flower gardens. There aren't any flowers here. Just the severed kinds in shops, and most of them look depressing."

"Much like the men and women selling them." Oswald replied. Suddenly, a yawn tore his jaws apart. Ruby snickered. "It's late, you should sleep."

"So should you." Oswald retorted with a smile.

Ruby laughed lightly. "Okay, _Dad._ " At first, Oswald thought she would wish him a good night and hang up. Instead, she added. "I missed this. Just talking with you."

"It shall be even better in person." Oswald grinned. "I can hardly wait."

* * *

Little did he know of the happenings downstairs. Of Ed sneaking into the crypt, a shovel and a hammer in his hands and a bag slung over his shoulders. Of the phone calls he had made. And the tea, poured onto the misty grass.


	78. Chapter 77

Chapter 77

Two weeks passed. They never seemed to end.

It started with Oswald's supposed visitor from the other side. His father, he'd claimed, dressed in the nightgown he'd always worn with a candle in his hand. " _He is not to be trusted. The birthday boy._ " What could that mean? Who? Oswald and Ruby had both looked up the birthdays of everyone around them. None of them would occur in the nearby future.

Ruby had been awakened at three a.m. by frantic knocking and even more hysterical buzzing. She'd opened the door, one hand morphed into a knife, to find a shaking and blabbering Oswald standing before her. Three hot cups of his favorite tea later, coupled with some painkillers for his knee, he'd told her what he'd seen.

"Are you sure you really saw...saw him?" Ruby's voice had trembled a bit at the mention. "Maybe it was just a nightmare."

"No! I saw him, really." Oswald had taken her hand. His own had been sweaty and clammy but wonderful to hold. "Ruby, I swear on all that is holy, I would _never_ lie about this. _Ever_." Ruby had held him then, for both their sakes.

But within a few days, she had been the one in need of holding. When her Master's corpse had been reported missing.

Mercury had cradled Beryl, casting worried looks in Ruby's direction, as the latter wept in Oswald's arms. "Who would do this?!" She'd cried. "Who would dig up the body of someone who's been dead for almost two years? It makes no sense!" Oswald, who'd been holding back his own tears, had been silent as he'd stroked her hair.

It didn't help that Edward had all but vanished, refusing to answer Oswald's calls and almost never being seen. Sometimes at night, Oswald could hear the water tubes humming and distant footsteps. But never did Edward come to speak to him. In that way, besides deserting Oswald, he made it impossible to see if the drug had worked. He'd stopped showing up at working, instead sending Oswald a tiny tool named Tarquin Stemmel.

Then came that woman. Margaret Hearst. The one who offered to 'take his legacy on a national scale'. Who was he to refuse, despite her openly admitting that she did not believe in him?

The day came before either Oswald or Ruby knew it. The day of the Hearst interview.

It would be the beginning of the end.

* * *

" _This is Ed Nygma. Leave a message. Or don't. It doesn't really matter._ "

Sighing, Oswald hung up. For all the people pushing past him, he felt as alone as a palm tree in the desert. What was the point of being in City Hall, surrounded by underlings, if he couldn't feel good about himself. As he struggled up the stairs, Oswald examined Ruby's latest texts. Hopefully she would cheer him up, and he could do the same. Hiking his way upward, he couldn't help smile as he skimmed through the messages.

 _'Hey, Oz! Sorry, again, for not coming to your interview. Beryl's been coughing all night and I need to give her the syrup.'_ Sent at 7:30 a.m.

 _'Mercury is here, too. He wants to know how the hell you can afford a wardrobe like that and not live off ramen noodles.'_ Sent at 8:15 a.m.

 _'Is it weird that I wish that you were here? Despite knowing that you hate to hear babies crying?'_ Sent at 8:45 a.m, just five minutes ago.

Unable to resist, Oswald texted back. _'Not at all. The feeling is very much mutual, my dear.'_ He sent it. A few seconds later, Ruby replied with a happy-face emoji. Chuckling, Oswald at last reached the final step.

As if by magic, one of his secretaries - whose names he could not remember with a gun to his head - ran up to him. "Mr. Mayor-"

Oswald held up a hand, effectively silencing her. "Unless you are bringing strong coffee or you have information on my father's stolen remains, go away." The secretary bit her lip and obeyed. Grateful for small miracles, Oswald entered the office. He had barely made it through the door, however, when the echoes reached him. They were of a song so familiar, yet so alien in its cheer.

 _"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..."_

It was then that Oswald remembered. The tool. Tarquin. Birthday boy. His pulse suddenly thrice faster, Oswald knew what he had to do. Where he had to go. He made a beeline for Tarquin's office, all oak's wood and gold-framed paintings. Clearly, the kid had squandered his paycheque. Knowing that his time was limited, Oswald attacked the desk first. He opened the drawers, scanned the documents, and found nothing. He examined the cabinets and the backs of paintings, with no results. It was only then that he spotted the muddy footprints. Suddenly feeling like he was in a Scooby-Doo episode, but unable to ignore the implications, Oswald followed the smudges.

It brought him to the closet. And within it, a bag used for carrying exercising equiptment. Kneeling before it, with his knee screaming all the way, Oswald tore open the zipper.

His father's decayed body was waiting for him inside.

With a scream Oswald lurched backwards. His hand slapped over his mouth and nose. Keeping the stench out and the screams in. Tears filled his eyes as they gazed at the thing that once been his loving, kind father. The skin was a greenish-black, with the lips pulled back to reveal yellowing teeth. The eyes had rotted away long ago, leaving shriveled sockets. The hair had become thin and brittle. The suit seemed too large now, covering a skeletal form.

It proved too much for Oswald. He twisted around. Vomit gushed from his lips and seeped between the floorboards. His stomach squeezed itself empty, painfully so, until only foam exited Oswald's mouth. He heaved and coughed even as the air soured, yet he couldn't stop. Anything beat looking back at the body. Oswald had seen hundreds of corpses in his career. But never had they been more than steps to near him to his goal. Never had he batted an eye at death, nor wondered what his victims had been like prior to warranting punishment. This was different. This had been someone he'd loved, and who'd returned that love tenfold. All the bodies in the world couldn't compare to that.

A voice cut through to him. "Your Honour!"

Oswald looked up, eyes wild.

The 'birthday boy' himself was standing there, holding a cake-laden paper plate. His expression was clueless. It was the oil poured over the flames of Oswald's fury. A fury that Tarquin did not survive.

* * *

Ruby looked up from the thermometer with a smile. "No cough, no fever!" She tapped the baby's button-like nose. "I'd say that's earned you a treat!" Scooping Beryl into her arms, Ruby left the bedroom. Mercury was there, wearing a gray hoodie and jeans so faded that they were almost white. He had just finished arranging a banquet on the coffee table in front of the television, and Ruby felt full from the sight alone. Pizza. Soda. Pretzels. Peanuts. Apple and cherry pie. Hot Pockets. Macaroni and cheese. For a moment, Ruby considered being truthful and admitting that concern had blocked her appetite. But when she saw Mercury grin at her, she couldn't do it.

Sitting next to him on the couch, she asked, "what time is it?"

"Er," Mercury looked up, "it's five to noon."

"Good, let's get to the news channel!" Ruby grinned as she held up Beryl's bottle. "I want to see Oswald take a bite out of that Hearst lady."

"Knowing him, he'll take a bite, then spit it back in her face." Mercury chuckled as the television awakened. Ruby sniggered, holding Beryl close as she fed the baby. When Beryl finished, Ruby patted her back until a polite little burp made itself heard. Kissing the child's fuzzy head, Ruby watched.

Hearst was a thin, middle-aged woman with a pinched face and blonde hair that looked like a wig. Her clothes and jewelry were excessive both in design and in color, making Ruby certain that the stones were fake. Had this woman dated clowns in the past, or did she simply have awful taste?

Oswald, on the other hand, looked amazing. As always, he took Ruby's breath away. But beyond his elegant suit and carefully-slicked hair, something was off. Ruby could see it. He was anxious. Jittery. Almost frightened. Concerned, Ruby gave Beryl to Mercury. If she ended up seeing something unpleasant, she feared dropping the baby. As Mercury tickled the baby's stomach, Ruby closed her eyes. Cleared her mind. Welcomed the connection between her and Oswald, rusty from lack of use.

Then, with a flare, she saw it. The rotting body. The birthday boy. The blood that flowed from his cracked skull.

Slapping a hand over her mouth, Ruby jumped to her feet.

"Rubes?" Mercury's questioning tone grew alarmed as Ruby raced to the kitchen. She'd barely knelt over the trash can when her breakfast came oozing out. Coffee, milk, and partially digested cereal splattered into the bag. Her sweaty-palmed hands clutched at the sink for support, and tears filled her eyes.

"Hey, hey, whoa!" Mercury's scent - a mixture of cheap cologne and unwashed skin - tickled Ruby's nose. His hand patted her back as she vomited. When at last her stomach was empty, and her cheeks were wet with tears, Ruby leaned over the sink. First she rinsed her mouth with cold water, then she doused her face. Feeling a bit more human, she accepted Mercury's offer of a towel and dried herself. When she saw his big, worried eyes, guilt hit her like a weight to the stomach. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, don't worry." Mercury patted her shoulder. "But like, are you okay? You want me to get you something in the farmacy?"

"No, no." Ruby shook her head, nevertheless touched by the gesture. "I...I think I just ate something icky, that's all. Some hot tea and I'll be fine."

"Alright, babe." Mercury pointed to the divan, where Beryl was lying. "Go park it. I'll bring ya the tea in a sec."

Ruby blinked, then chuckled. "I'm a grown woman. I think I can make my own tea."

"You just puked up a storm." Mercury countered. "So, you'd better take it easy." He gave her a gentle push. "Go on, I promise I won't set the building on fire."

Ruby quirked a brow as she made her way back. "You mean like that time you put that dinner tray in the oven without taking off the plastic?"

Blushing, Mercury replied, "I thought we'd never talk of it again!"

Despite the images still reeling behind her eyelids, Ruby chuckled. But concern and terror pumped through her with a vengeance. Why? Why had some guy dug up Master's remains? What was the motive?

All of a sudden, Ruby realized that Oswald had seen his father's corpse minutes before this interview. No wonder he looked so anxious. Taking Beryl back into her arms, Ruby stared at the television screen. Thankfully, Oswald seemed to have calmed down somewhat. He was talking about his ascent in power, minus the conspiracies and murder. As he spoke he loosened up and even smiled from time to time, clearly proud of how far he'd come. Ruby watched, feeling proud of him, and letting him know it. The experience was not unlike squeezing a friend's shoulder, or blowing a kiss. A simple gesture that went a long way. Ruby watched as Oswald smiled sporadically throughout the interview, and how his cheeks reddened.

For a little while, it seemed that all would proceed well. Mercury brought her some tea, and she thanked him with a hug. They continued to watch the interview, snacking all the way. Beryl passed between them like a shared beer can. It truly seemed that Oswald would come out swinging.

Then, Hearst brought up the discussion of Oswald's father. Ruby's Master. "A man whose identity your mother kept from you."

"Oh, my God." Oswald looked at something beyond Hearst, his face losing all color.

"Yes, that must have been very upsetting for you." Hearst replied with feigned empathy. Oswald looked back at her, as if just remembering that she existed, before whispering a distracted, "yes."

Ruby leaned forward in her seat, holding Beryl close.

"He also died under suspicious circumstances. His wife and stepchildren disappeared soon after."

But Oswald wasn't listening to the older woman's unveiled implications. He was staring at something, jaw dropped. Ruby had never seen him this terrified. Just like that, she rose. "I have to go to him."

"What?" Mercury looked befuddled.

"Thanks so much for everything." Ruby said quickly as she dressed Beryl in her little coat. "You can stay here if you want, and watch some TV. I should be back in time for my shift."

"But what happened?" Mercury asked. "Did he just go nuts or something?"

In that moment, Oswald, having stood up, spat out the most vicious dribble of venom he could muster: "To _hell_ with the people!"

Ruby froze, shocked. Mercury stared at the television. "Well, that answers that!"

The woman shook her head as she grabbed her purse. "Something's wrong. Oswald cares about image, almost obsesses over it. He'd never freak out in public like this." She blew Mercury a kiss as she ran out. "Bye, Merc! See you soon!"

Mercury raised his hand, but the door was already closing. He sighed. Stroked the small box sitting in his hoody pocket. "It's never a good time, is it?"

* * *

Oswald ran out of City Hall as quickly as he could, his knee screaming every step of the way. He didn't care. He'd chop his knee off with a hacksaw if it meant getting him to his father sooner.

For that was what - nay, whom - he had seen. His dear father, just as he'd been almost two years ago, weaving through the room with a sombre look in his eyes. He'd gone unnoticed by all, yet the light had been shining on him. Like an aura surrounding an angel, it had been there, almost blinding. Then, just as quickly as he'd appeared, he'd left. Oswald had gotten up, stripping himself of his mike and his public image. But he didn't care. If it meant seeing his father again, if only for a second...

The cold air chased him like a mad dog as he wandered about, his hair getting into teary eyes, as he scanned the streets. But to no avail. Like a puff of smoke, his father had come and gone. Just like before. He'd appeared, made him feel so much hope and love, only to abandon him. Just...like...before.

Oswald was crying at this point, no different from a child lost in a crowd. He didn't hear the distant calls, drawing closer. Nor did he see the figure in the sky, not quite a bird and certainly not a plane. Getting closer, wings of flesh flapping.

A hand landed on his shoulder. He whipped around, almost stumbling, to find Ruby standing before him. Her hair was windswept and her cheeks and nose had gone red from the cold. Strapped to her chest, all snuggled up in blankets, was a gurgling baby. She looked at him with huge indigo eyes. Her fingers traced his face, concerned and loving. Oswald's heart broke then and there. He closed the space between them and, careful not to hurt the child, embraced her. Ruby returned the gesture, resting her cheek on the top of his head. Oswald's hunched shoulders trembled hysterically, while the front of Ruby's sweater dampened. But Ruby clung on, stroking her friend's hair and kissing his head. "It's okay." She whispered over and over. "It's alright. I'm here, Oz. I'm here." Oswald merely cried louder, holding her tighter, as the pain of loss overtook him again.

Little did they know that this was only the beginning of the end.

The end of which Edward Nygma was the architect.


	79. Chapter 78

Chapter 78

Edward Nygma looked at the distant couple as they embraced. Even from across the square, he could see that Oswald was crying. Ruby, the wench, was doing everything to calm him down to little avail. He watched with a fusion of disgust, anger, and satisfaction. In a short while, they will both be in terrible need of comfort. And neither will be able to give it to the other. Oh, if only he could witness the entire affair!

The crunching of gravel had Edward's head turning. He smiled as a man in a fine suit walked towards him. Once his associate reached the car, Edward glanced at the trunk's contents. A bloody birthday boy, right next to a rotting corpse. Grinning, Edward held up his hands for emphasis. "A very good job."

His associate smirked before reaching up and covering his face. With a few motions here and there, a crack and a squish, the unveiled face proved younger. The eyes were now completely white, with only tiny dots for pupils. Sighing with satisfaction, Basil removed the wig. His hairless dome shone in the misty daylight like marble. "He bought it?"

"Hook, line, and sinker." Edward assured him.

"Great." Basil nodded. "Voice wasn't quite right, but, y'know..." He followed Edward's gaze, and his bland features twisted into a sneer. " _She's_ with him."

"I'm aware." Edward answered curtly.

"You know the last time I bumped into her, she gouged out one of my eyes?" Mistaking Edward's disgust for curiousity, Basil continued. "I'm serious, look!" He hit himself on the back of the head. One of his eyes flew out like a bullet. Edward got out of dodge, but thankfully Basil caught the glass eye before it could hit the ground. He held it up. "See?"

"Yes, I do." Edward tried not to look at Basil's gaping black socket. "Now, please put your eye back in."

Basil sighed and complied. "I'll do a lot worse to her when the time comes."

Edward was about to protest when company arrived. Two women. One dark, one light, and both soaked in sin. One was stoic, while the other clapped. Edward straightened as Barbara spoke, her tone dripping with glee. "Bravo, boys. Penguin lost his mind on national TV, just like you said he would."

"It's all about the power of suggestion. Of whispering in the right ears." Edward was all too proud to go over the plan that he'd been putting in motion for nearly a month. Convincing Basil to dress up like Mr. Van Dahl and 'warning' Oswald. Breaking Oswald's framed release certificate from Gotham. Digging up the old man's body. Telling that stupid blonde man to recite a speech to Penguin.

It was all smoke and mirrors. Set up the stage and watch the actors dance about. And the play would soon come to a close.

"Why not just leave the bodies here?" Tabitha asked. "Have him arrested and his fangirl in mourning?"

"That would be far too easy, Tabby." Edward closed the trunk to further erase the notion. "I want this to be a slow, painful death. One of a thousand deep cuts." He glanced at Basil. "And Ruby plays a vital role in that. The final blow to send Oswald over the edge. So she is not to be touched until I say so."

Basil harrumphed. Looking away, he crossed his arms. "Party pooper."

Edward ignored him, instead looking back to his two enemies. Oswald had finally stopped crying, yet continued to wipe his eyes like a child. Ruby offered him a handkerchief, which he used to loudly blow his nose. Then, in a flash of light, one stood where there had once been two. Cobblair, hugging themselves, reclaimed their wings and took off. Edward watched them go, smirking in anticipation.

* * *

Ruby had told Mercury about Cobblair. About the fusion of her and Oswald, both physically and mentally. She had even described it when her friend had asked. Thus, Mercury had thought to have a fair grasp on the concept.

That is, until the creature swept into the open window like an eagle.

Screaming Mercury dropped his orange juice. The sound of breaking glass turned Cobblair's head. At first they settled on Mercury as if unsure of who he was. Then, with a smile, they shook their head. "Dude, I've told you: just drink from the carton. You're the only one in this house who drinks orange juice anyway." The voice was just high enough to be a woman's, but still odd and unfamiliar.

Mercury swallowed hard. "R-Ruby?"

"And company." Cobblair, who had since stepped into the living room, suddenly began to glow. Mercury was forced to cover his eyes for a moment. When he looked back at the fading lumiscence, two people were standing before him. Ruby was crashing in the couch, panting, while Mayor Cobblepot leaned against the bookshelf. Somehow, seeing the mayor in person was more shocking than seeing him and his friend combined into a single being. Mercury, wary of the broken glass, knelt before the older man. "Sir."

Oswald smiled feebly at the show of respect. He nodded, allowing Mercury to stand. Then, he hovered over Ruby. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Ruby's fingers laced through his as Oswald checked her temperature. Looking up, she offered him a simper. "Just tired. You, make yourself at home. Really." She sighed, closing her eyes. Oswald nodded, pushing her hair back. Mercury's chest tightened. He swallowed. "Yeah, well, uh, it's getting late, so-"

"Merc." Ruby exhaled his name. Compelling him to wait. She forced herself into a sitting position. "Are you okay? And Beryl?"

Mercury cracked a smile. Saluted her. "Don't worry, sweet-cheeks. Beryl's A-OK. She's nappin'. and I'm..." Looking back at the pool of juice and glass shards, he chuckled. "Well, I'll probably be a lil' lacking in vitamin C, but I'll live."

Ruby looked relieved. Lying back down, she shot him a thumbs-up. "Awesome. I'll...I'll be down in time for my shift, promise."

"Good!" Mercury said, "'Cuz there's nine kilos of lapis lazuli down there that needs unwrapping." Pistol-shooting her with his finger, he said, "See ya then. Mr. Mayor." Dipped his chin at Oswald. With that, he left.

Oswald chuckled. "Nice fellow. A bit shlumpy, if I do say so myself, but harmless."

Ruby sniggered without opening her eyes. "' _Shlumpy'_? Jeez, Oz, who says that anymore?"

"I do." Oswald sat on the couch's armrest. But as he watched Ruby, some of his fragile cheer faded. She was still panting, and some damp hair was stuck to her forehead. He gently brushed them away. "Why are you so tired?"

Ruby shrugged. "Maybe it's just a combination of things, you know? Between taking care of Beryl and work, I haven't had to fly anywhere in a while. I guess that and the fusion wore me out." Sluggishly opening her eyes, she peered at him. How ironic. Unless he lost control, Oswald was a master at keeping his emotions hidden. No matter how angry he could get, he always hid it behind a tight smile. Yet here Ruby was, peeling back the lies and the half-truths until he was completely bare before her. It was both a wonderful and a horrible feeling. To put the cherry on the sundae, she said, "Now. Are you going to tell me what happened on TV?"

Oswald sighed. Looked away.

Ruby's hand, damp and cool like a seaside boulder, seized his. "Oz. I've seen you go on radio and more meetings than I can count. You're great at talking to lots of people. What happened?" Her voice softened. "Please."

Oswald turned back to her. At her gentle, compassionate gaze. It reminded him a bit of his mother's, whenever he'd come home bleeding and in tears. Sighing, he gestured for her to come closer. She did, with his help. Within minutes she had her head on his lap, looking up at him with those big, dark blue eyes. Oswald, smiling in spite of himself, rested a hand on her head. Then, he told her. Everything, from the corpse in the bag to the ghost in the room. At the mention of her dead Master, dug up from his grave and stuffed in a bag, filled Ruby's face with anguished rage. But she calmed down enough to allow Oswald to continue.

When at last he finished, Oswald was on the verge of crying. Yet he pulled himself together. "I know not what I saw," he said, "but the person who did this is dead. Justice is done."

Ruby pursed her lips, and nodded. "I still don't understand why he did it. I mean, where's the motive?"

"He wanted to throw me off-course, lest I look like a fool on television. He most likely wanted to look sane compared to an 'insane' mayor." Oswald shrugged. "I'm afraid I didn't ask for elaborations before I bashed his skull in."

"I'd have done worse." Ruby admitted. She looked up. Seeing Oswald's hazy eyes, she reached out and touched his cheek. It was like touching raw electricity, sending lightning buzzing down her arm. True, they had fused, but they had done it countless times. And true, she was currently lying with her head on his lap. But the two of them had taken on similar positions in the past, especially during movie nights. But touching each other's faces...that was different. So innocent, yet intimate. Oswald snapped out of his thoughts and met Ruby's eyes. "It's over." She told him. "Whomever you saw...it won't happen again. You avenged your father. So he won't come back."

Oswald nodded. "I'll admit, the prospect is saddening." When Ruby frowned in confusion, he explained. "I only knew my father for a brief while. Seeing him again, albeit in spirit form..." He sighed. Ruby nodded, pushing some strands out of her friend's eyes. "I almost envy you."

"Oh, yes. I humiliated myself on national television. I bet you're _green_ with envy."

Ruby rolled her eyes. Then, she added. "You know the press is going to be at your house, right? After what happened, they'll be looking for a juicy scoop on the mayor's psychosis. So, if you were looking for a nice, quiet evening..." She winced.

Oswald leaned his head back. "I'll have my guards shoot them down. I've been meaning to obtain some more fertilizer anyway."

Ruby rolled her eyes. " _Or_ , you could spend the night here." When she saw Oswald's expression, she laughed. "Don't worry, Casanova. I'll have the couch ready for you tonight."

Oswald blinked softly at her. "Truly?"

"Truly." Ruby nodded with a gentle smile.

Oswald was quiet for a moment. Then, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. Once again, Ruby's cheeks caught fire.

* * *

The laboratory, once so glorious and hideous in its display, was in shambles. The tubes filled with formaldehyde, containing deformed babies, had been shattered. Test tubes had been knocked over. Posters and notes had been torn from the walls.

And Barker, the owner and father of it all, lay motionless in a pool of his own blood. A smoking hole sat between his eyes. The back of his head was a shattered, unspooling ruin.

Edward put down the steaming gun. Then, paying no heed to his latest victim, he began to leaf through the files labeled 'COBBLAIR'. He skipped the trivia regarding their fusion, though he was certain that it may come in handy later. But not now. He was searching for information on Cobblair's components. Or rather, one of them.

Trying not to look at the photos of Ruby prior to receiving Strange's cure, he skimmed through Barker's notes. When he found nothing of interest there Edward, pushing his glasses up, began to read Strange's notes. Or rather, photo copies of them. He read all about the skin condition and its origins. He read about the treatment, and...

Wait.

Edward stopped. Grabbing a magnifying glass, he held it over the sentence of interest. It stared back at him, bright as a star and dark as a black hole.

 _'During the experimental process, I've learned that poison shuts down Sinclair's new-found powers. Alerting an invasion, her body will focus all of its energy on deterring that rather than keep her abilities in check. Thus, until the venom is cured or expelled, she will have no powers of which to speak. At most, her advanced condition will slow down the poison's effects.'_

Edward grinned. "Delicious."


	80. Chapter 79

Chapter 79

Several days passed. Quiet. Uneventful. Peaceful. Oswald was a prisoner - albeit a self-imposed one - and Ruby was the warren. Under her watchful eye, nobody got in or out without approval.

Before long, the friends fell into a familiar routine. Not unlike the kind they'd had at Van Dahl Manor. In the morning, Ruby woke up early to care for Beryl: everything from feeding her warm goat's milk to bathing her in the sink to dressing her. She'd barely have the baby dressed when the scents of breakfast reached her nose. Ruby would walk into the kitchen then, to find Oswald serving up plates of eggs (one set of them being tofu), toast, jam, and tofu bacon. They'd sit down and eat, chatting all the way. They no longer spoke of Isabella, or her fate. Ruby had decided that Oswald had been punished sufficiently for it; by her, at least. Besides, what kind of friend would she have been if she'd guilt-tripped him during one of his lowest moments?

After breakfast, Ruby would wash up and get ready for the day. Oswald would take care of Beryl during that time. At first, the baby was unsure of the beak-nosed stranger. But with time, and her caretaker's encouragement, Beryl came around. Before long she was tugging at that nose or loose tufts of hair at every oppurtunity. Then, once Ruby reemerged, the two of them would enjoy some quiet time until lunch.

Usually, Ruby spent that time going over her geology trivia both for the love of it and in case a customer asked her questions. It felt wonderful to reunite with gems again. After Beryl's arrival, Ruby hadn't been able to indulge as much as before. But at the same time, Ruby wouldn't have changed her decision for the world.

Oswald, on the other hand, spent the time avoiding the media as much as he could. As predicted, a swarm of journalists had crowded the mansion in search of answers. All they'd gotten was bitter disappointment. Oswald had further avoided both the papers and the news network. It felt nice to simply pretend that neither exist. That only this small, but tidy apartment existed. Instead, dressed in hand-me-downs that Ruby convinced Merc to lend her - clothes that he'd intended to donate to the Salvation Army - Oswald read and listened to music. It felt odd to go through belongings that were not his, but still managed to reach out and touch his heartstrings. Ruby would glance up from her jewels and books, and smile.

Then, at four o'clock, Ruby went down to the shop, leaving Oswald alone. For three hours he would stay that way, with only an infant for company. He spent much of that time reading, watching century-old films, and caring for Beryl. As he fed her, Oswald soon spotted tiny traces of Ruby in her face. They had the same nose, and the same large eyes. And, unless it was a matter of age, Beryl had the same hands as Ruby. It gave him both comfort and happiness: even though Ruby herself couldn't bear children, a part of her would live on in Beryl.

At seven o'clock, Ruby would return home, more often than not carrying take-out or accompaniment to dinner. After putting Beryl to bed, the two would eat in front of the television, watching whatever captured their interest.

Looking back, Oswald would decide that those had been the last happy days he'd had.

Then, on the seventh day of Oswald's voluntary solitary treatment, they got a knock on the door.

Ruby, wiping her hands dry of soap suds and scraps of food, peered through the door's peephole. A gasp escaped her lips. Oswald, who had been enjoying a glass of after-dinner brandy, looked up in alarm. "What is it?"

When his friend turned around, her eyes had become as large as hard-boiled eggs. "Barbara."

Another impatient knock. "Come _on_ , Ruby! I know your boyfriend's in there!"

" _He's not my boyfriend!_ " Ruby snapped, color rushing to her cheeks.

"Whatever, keep on denying it!" Barbara replied. "But do it while letting me in. I wanna talk to Penguin."

Ruby scowled, arms crossed. Then, she looked at Oswald with question marks in her eyes. Oswald pursed his lips, then held up a hand. He downed his brandy in one gulp, then hissed through clenched teeth. Still breathing hard, he nodded at Ruby. Smirking, she obliged. Barbara burst in, wearing a coat that looked like it'd been fashioned from dead skunks. Her short, blonde hair was swept to one side, and pearls clung to her earlobes. The rest of her slender body was swathed in black.

She was carrying a newspaper in her hands and a smirk on her lips. When she saw Oswald, dressed in a baggy Deadpool hoodie and ebony leggings, she cracked a smile. "My, how the mighty have fallen."

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." Ruby rolled her eyes.

In that moment, a faint cry rose from her bedroom. Ruby excused herself before heading off towards it. Barbara watched her go, smiling all the way. She looked around, whistling. "A step down from the Van Dahl mansion, no doubt, but it's decent. And you got yourself a wife and kid, too, Ozzy? Man, leave yourself _something_ to do in the future!"

Oswald, who still had liquid fire simmering in his guts, felt nothing but faint annoyance. "Ruby is not my wife, though any man would be lucky to have her. And Beryl is not my child. She is Ruby's ward."

"Thanks for filling me in." Barbara crashed into Ruby's seat. Oswald stayed where he was, waiting for her to spout her request. Instead, she plucked out the newspaper and began to read out loud. Each word was a pebble being pelted at Oswald. Mayor's resignation. Clearly disturbed. To Hell with the people of Gotham. Oh, Christ.

"What are you doing?" Oswald asked at last.

"I'm reading." Barbara held up the front page. His angry, colorless photo glared at him from afar. " _Mayor Crumblepot_. Clever, huh?"

Oswald bit his lip. "What did Ed have to say about this? I haven't heard from him in days."

"Who knows?" Barbara answered vaguely.

The lack of solidity in her answer affected him more than any of the article's words had. Ed, his beautiful Ed, stood before his mind's eye. Faint and almost see-through, but there. He should have let Ed know he'd be here. Before he could stop himself Oswald began to ask where Ed was, and if he called, but Barbara simply kept reading aloud. At last, she read, "... _which begs the question: who is running Gotham?_ "

Oswald sighed. "Who cares what people think of the mayor? The city runs itself."

"What?"

Both heads turned to find Ruby, still cradling Beryl in her arms. The infant, wearing striped one-piece pajamas, was giggling in delight as an additional pair of hands sprouted from Ruby's wrists to tickle and stroke her. Yet Ruby's expression was stiff with conflict. Keeping her voice low to avoid startling Beryl, the young woman said, "Did I hear right? Oswald, the man who rode us all into the ground with his campaign, suddenly doesn't care what people think because his pet snake is missing?"

"He's not a snake!" Oswald snapped. "And you don't understand."

"Oh, I understand!" Ruby replied. "You wanted to be mayor more than anything, and now you're backing away at the first sign of trouble?" She scoffed. "This absolutely _pisses_ on all the work we put into the campaign!" Even though she sounded angry, Oswald could see the sorrow and disappointment in her eyes. Then, she did the worst thing possible: she sighed, turned around, and retreated to the bedroom. Oswald watched her go with a heavy heart.

Seeing this as the time to resume their conversation, Barbara spoke. "Anyway, I wasn't talking about you being mayor. I meant your other job, the real one. You melt down in public and hide in your girlfriend's apartment?"

Oswald opened his mouth to correct her, then realized he lacked the energy to do so.

Uninterrupted, Barbara continued. "You do that, and people start smelling blood in the water."

Understanding, Oswald asked, "Who?"

"Tommy Bones. The Duke." Barbara replied as though the answer were obvious. "These gangs are holding, but south of the Narrows there's chatter. 'The king is dead, or soon will be'. That kind of chatter."

Oswald rubbed his face. Overwhelmed. "I need Ed." He admitted. "He's the only one-"

Barbara hit him on the head with the paper. "Listen to me! Ed's not here, I am. Tomorrow you'll get up, take a shower, and do that disco vampire thing with your hair. I will call a meeting with the heads of the families. You will come. You will be your old self, and the rumors will stop." She had since abandoned her valley-girl attitude, instead taking on an almost sombre air. It was odd as it was reassuring. If nothing else, it explained how she'd gotten any footing in Gotham's underworld.

But one thing nagged at Oswald. He voiced it. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because people think you like me, Ozzy." Barbara said. "And as long as they're scared of you, I get to keep breathing." She tossed the newspaper his way. It landed on his lap like a horse-fly. "Tomorrow. One o'clock. My place." She rose and marched out. Smiling darkly.

Oswald could only stare as the door closed behind her. Then, he looked back at the entrance to Ruby's room. Mute, he rose and finished washing the dishes. He then swept the table clean of crumbs and droplets. Still unsatisfied, he moved through the living room. Putting books back on shelves. Fluffing up the couch's pillows. Sweeping up the thin layer of dust.

At last, he looked around and was met with tidiness.

He turned back to the bedroom door. Breathed in.

Ruby was lying on the bed when he came in. Didn't turn, speak, or acknowledge his presence in any way. She had changed in her night clothes: a magenta nightgown with a buttoned-up collar. Her hair had been done up in a top-knot. Beryl was sleeping in the crib that Oswald had bought her only two days prior.

One was sleeping. The other wasn't.

Sighing, Oswald switched the saloon's lights off. Combined with the bedroom's duskiness, he could only see Ruby's smudged shape. She hadn't budged. Oswald followed his instinct and climbed into bed with her. Wouldn't be the first time. The sheets were clean and smelled like the same strawberry soap she'd used at home. He lay on his side, like her, and hugged her middle. Rested his cheek between her shoulder blades. For a while, neither dared to speak. It was a tense, but not unbearable silence.

At last, Ruby spoke. "It hurt me to hear you say that." Her voice sounded as though she'd been gargling hot asphalt.

"I shouldn't have." Oswald murmured. "I'm sorry."

"You don't even know what you're apologizing for." Ruby turned to face him. Their faces were inches apart. Neither could escape the words of the other. "You threw everything you worked so hard for under the bus. I understand why it happened that day. You saw your father and slipped up in your panic to reach him. But tonight? It's like you don't even care. You seemed more interested in finding Ed than fixing the problem." Ruby's eyes filled with tears as she concluded her words. She wanted to ask, _what does Ed have that I don't? Do you really think he'll ever love you as much as I do?_

But of course she couldn't say that, no matter how much she wanted to.

Oswald cupped both her cheeks. She covered his hands with hers. He looked right in her eyes as he spoke. "I felt that Ed could fix this situation. But moreover, I want him to appear so that I can see the drug's effects on him. More than anything, I want everything to return to the way it was. But fixing all of this?" He shook his head. "I have never been good with people, Ruby. Never. Aside from my parents, people have only ever walked all over me, laughed at me, or ignored me." He paused, wiping a stray tear of Ruby's with his thumb. "I just don't feel that I can do it alone."

Ruby cracked a weak smile. "You're not alone, Oz."

Oswald mirrored it. "Neither are you."

The two embraced. Held onto each other as tightly as possible. Light began to flicker beneath their skins as their electrons began to glow. Their luminescence turned night to day, making little Beryl gurgle in her sleep. In the bright heat, Ruby's skin liquified and seeped into Oswald's. Before long, all that was left of her was the imprint on the blankets. Oswald's hair grew curly. His thighs and legs became sturdier, healthier, and more feminine. His skin adopted a pale peach tone. His angular face became as round as a cookie. One eye darkened to indigo.

Sighing and content, Cobblair yawned. Hugged themselves. Then nodded off into a deep, undisturbed sleep.

Little did they know what tomorrow held.


	81. Chapter 80

Chapter 80

The day's light trickled through the curtains, hazy and gray. Spilled into Beryl's crib, covering her little feet. She slept on, just like Cobblair a few feet away. Curled up like a cat, curly black hair spread across the pillow, they snoozed as deeply as Princess Aurora and twice as soundly. Their minds, as fused as their bodies, produced fractured carnivals behind closed eyelids. Memories. Desires.

Oswald weeping as he held his mother, her blood staining his hands.

Ruby being examined by Strange's lackeys, probed and prodded like a doll.

Oswald, no older than four, and missing a front tooth, jumping up and down at the discovery of a silver dollar under his pillow.

Ruby, a deformed teenager, listening as the muffled sounds of a Christmas party resounded beneath her feet.

Oswald at the top of the criminal food chain, cackling from a golden throne.

Ruby by his side, an equal. Smiling.

A thin wail reached their ears, cutting off the train of thoughts. Eyes flew open. One was icy-blue, the other indigo.

Jumping out of the covers, Cobblair reached into the crib. Extracting the crying infant, they patted her back in comfort. As she quieted down, they proceeded to change and feed her. When she finished her warm milk, she looked up at Cobblair. Recognition shone in her bright green eyes. She saw Ruby looking down at her, as well as the man who'd been living with them. Far from being intimidated, she liked it. Gurgling, she reached out to them with her chubby arms. Cobblair blinked, then chuckled. Held the baby close, feeling her fleshy warmth. It sent waves of affection washing over both hearts.

Kissing the baby's forehead, they put her back in the crib. Cobblair looked at the clock, and sighed. It was eight o'clock, bright and cold. Only five hours until the inevitable meeting at the Sirens.

Neither of Cobblair's components wanted to separate. After so long, it felt wonderful to be whole again. To fill in the void that had haunted them both. But they both knew that the longer they waited, the more torturous it would be once they did split up.

Cobblair closed their eyes. Their body began to shimmer with light. Became encased with it. Split down the center. One became two. Stretching and yawning, Oswald and Ruby turned to each other. Smiling sadly, she said, "That was easily the best sleep I've had in a long time."

Oswald nodded. "Indeed." Sighing at the clock again, he jerked his thumb at the bathroom door. "May I...?"

"Sure." Ruby nodded. "My shift doesn't start until three. And I'm not going to meet any gangsters."

"These aren't just any gangsters." Oswald replied. "These are the gangster gods."

"And what does that make you?"

"The king of gods." Oswald sniggered. "Figuratively speaking."

Rolling her eyes, Ruby waved as her friend disappeared behind the bathroom door. As she heard the water go on, she set to work tidying up the place. In particular, she made the bed and took out the garbage - which, in her case, meant that she had to stretch her arms out the window until they hovered over the public bins, bags in hand. Then, with time to spare, she began to reorganize her stone collection. But even as she tried to work, she kept thinking back on being Cobblair. It had felt like her first meal after being unknowingly starved. And just like that, it was over. Ruby found herself wondering when it would happen again. And if her heart would ever give out from the roller-coaster she put it through.

Shaking off her thoughts, Ruby got to work recording her latest acquisitions. Mercury had insisted that she could have them for free, but Ruby would have felt guilty in depriving the store of income. In the end, they had settled for a compromise: fifty-percent discount. After all, Ruby had a baby to feed.

Recording the gems was wondering. Familiar as well as enriching.

 _Benitoite. Rare blue gemstone that is found ONLY in San Benito Country, in California, USA. It has a very high disposition (fire) that makes it sparkle intensely in the sun._

 _Chalcedony. A type of quartz with a wide variety of forms and colors. Typically semitransparent or translucent. Color depends on the minerals present when they form._

 _Lepidolite. Natural, untreated stone found in Russia. The mica provides a unique glitter._

 _Pietersite. Named for the man who discovered it in Africa in 1962. Features swirling reds, golds, and blues naturally cemented with quartz._

She went on like this for a while, until at last she heard the water flow end and her hand cramp. Rubbing it, she turned around just in time to see the door opening. A wall of steam gushed forward, dissipitating in the air. Yup. No hot water for Ruby. She rested her cheek on her knuckles as Oswald walked out, still in the process of slicking back his ebony hair. When he saw her, he grinned. His face was beet-red from exposure to damp heat.

Ruby whistled at his suit, all clean and pressed. "You look like a million diamonds."

Oswald gave a theatrical bow. But the gleam in his eyes was cold. "Hopefully, my edges will be sharp enough to cut out the unloyal."

Ruby rolled her eyes as she got up. Approaching him, she smoothed out the tiny wrinkles in his suit. "Don't worry, Oz. You've got them in the palm of your hand." Brushing a few stray strands out of his eyes, Ruby cupped his chin and made him look at her. "You got this. Okay?"

Oswald blinked. A dozen emotions swam in his icy-blue eyes. Then, at last, he embraced her. The two held onto each other until, at long last, the clock began to chime. Pulling away, Ruby looked at her friend worriedly. "Do you want me to accompany you? As Cobblair, we'd be at the Sirens in minutes."

"What about the baby?"

"I could leave her alone for ten minutes." Ruby replied. "Seven, if it's windy out."

Oswald shook his head, but smiled gently. "I appreciate it, my dear. But no." His expression darkened. "This is something I must do alone."

Ruby handed him his cane. "Okay. Well then, good luck. And just to make sure you actually _do_ have good luck..." She reached out towards her desk. Her arm, boneless and rubbery, found the drawer and dived inside. It returned to her with a chain carrying stones of a red so dark they were nearly black. Smiling, she placed it around Oswald's neck, right under the zircon stone. "These are tumbled garnets, associated with the planet Mars. They bring luck and money. Perfect for the occasion, in my opinion."

Oswald beamed, touched by the gesture. He reached out and stroked Ruby's cheek. "All the stones in the world can't compare to your companionship."

Ruby fought to keep her cheeks from reddening.

With that, Oswald left. And Ruby suddenly felt hollow.

* * *

The Sirens was silent. There was no murmuring conversation. There was no clinking of glasses. There wasn't even the muted _sshh_ of boots scraping nervously against polished floors. Oswald suspected what he would find when he arrived. But when he saw the empty tables, it hit him like a truck on full-speed.

He could only stare at the seats, and what they meant, until Barbara's voice slithered into his ear. "I sent out the word, said you wanted to see everyone, express concerns, ect, ect. And..." Barbara waved an arm at the desolate lounge. "See for yourself."

Oswald bit his lip. "This is a rebellion."

"Well, don't say I didn't warn ya, but..." Barbara, wearing a silver dress, smirked at him, "I _did_ warn you."

Oswald smiled tautly. "You have been such a friend, Barbara."

Barbara placed a hand on her chest, as if to say, _'who, **moi**?'_

"Tell me," Oswald pleaded, "what should I do now?"

Barbara tried to appear modest, but her natural inclination to lead and give orders shone through her face like moonbeams. "Well, if it were me, I would pick one of them - the Duke, maybe, or Tommy Bones - and teach them a lesson. They don't respect you, Oswald." Suddenly relaxing, she grinned. "In fact, kill Tommy Bones _and_ the Duke. Just clean house!" Oswald snorted, apologized, and proceeded to cackle behind his hand.

Some of Barbara's pretty exterior cracked as she commented, "I'm glad you can find the humor in it."

Then, Oswald dropped the bomb. "Did you really think I would be so easy to manipulate?"

Barbara sombered. Oswald took his cane's head - a penguin carved from bronze - and pulled. At the end of the penguin's head was a long, wickedly sharp blade. He held it upward, almost as an offering. Barbara flinched at the sight of it. "What was your plan?" Oswald asked. "Take advantage of me while I was in a weakened state? Trick me into attacking my subordinates so they truly did rebel? Inciting war so that you could pick up the pieces?" He broke into peals of laughter once more. Barbara looked away, composed but displeased.

"My dear," Oswald said, "you couldn't even get a single person to commit suicide - which, by the way, I have never forgiven you for. What makes you think you had the capacity to lead? You are _tragically_ out of your depth."

"Oswald, I'm your friend." Barbara's words were flatter than pancakes and unfeeling as corpses.

"Perhaps I should call Tommy Bones." Oswald said, ignoring Barbara's lie. "Or the Duke, or any of the families, and ask them if you really invited them to this meeting. What would they say?" In that moment, the phone next to Barbara began to ring. She answered it with an expressionless face. "Yes?...He's right here." She held out the phone to Oswald. "Tommy Bones."

Scowling, he accepted. "Yes?"

Tommy Bones' gruff voice gushed from the reciever. "You got the message? We don't work for you no more. Your day is done, freak."

Oswald's anger filled his chest like hot lava. "How dare you?!" His voice grew louder by the second, while Barbara watched with amusement. "I will gut you! I will hang your entrails from every lamppost in Gotham!"

"Then Nygma dies." Bones said calmly.

Oswald stopped. Petrified, all he could do was envision Ed - sweet Ed! - and imagine him in harm's way. The thought was so horrible that it festered even as he tried to banish it. "What?"

"Walk away quiet." Bones advised. "Maybe we'll send him back in one piece. And don't try sendin' your superfreak girlfriend after us, neither. We'll just have some fun with her before sending you her head. Right after we roast her baby and eat it for dinner, how's that sound?"

Oswald was nothing short of horrified. All he could do was listen as the hideous images took root in his mind. He saw Ruby, biting and thrashing like a wildcat as Bones' men pinned her down, taking turns with her. He could imagine her fighting, even as they jammed a needle in her neck. He could almost hear Beryl's screams, begging in infant language for someone to please come save her...right before she was dunked in boiling oil.

Bile coated his tongue. He swallowed hard as Bones hissed his last. "We'll even let you keep bein' mayor." _Click!_ Then the endless hum of a dead line. Dropping the phone he looked up at Barbara. "They have Ed! And they threatened Ruby. They're holding him hostage." Barbara reclaimed the phone, putting it in its place. Oswald stared down at the blade. "I will kill them! Every one of them!"

Barbara just looked bored. Oswald couldn't have cared less if he tried.

"I have to go." He sheathed the blade. "I have to gather my men. I have to..." He ran off.

Barbara watched him go. Smiling. Judging by Oswald's face, Bones had said everything they had told him to. But every loose string had to be tightened.


	82. Chapter 81

Chapter 81

Ruby glided over the city, fueled by the wind, with a pair of binoculars held firmly over her eyes. Her membrane-based wings flapped every so often, and she often had to steer to avoid hitting pigeons. In addition, the exhaust burdening the air stung her eyes. But all of these minor discomforts, she knew, were nothing compared to the anxiety Oswald was going through. Ruby could feel it: distant but present, tugging at her mind. Their connection was not unlike a loose string, both of them holding onto an end. Each quiver made its way down the string, into the notice of the other end.

And right now, Oswald's stress was enough to make even Ruby's stomach bubble uncomfortably. She persistently tried to help, to send him more positive vibes. It was all for naught.

Thus, she was on sentry duty. Everyone else had volunteered for that job, if only to get away from their psycho of a boss. The irony was that Ruby herself had wanted to stay by Oswald's side, if only to help calm him down. But Oswald had insisted that, since Ruby was the only one on his team capable of flight, she was best suited for the job.

Thus far, nothing of interest had caught Ruby's eye. The binoculars had been a gift from Barker (speaking of which, where _was_ the poor guy?), and more advanced than anything on the market. They contained high-definition insight on things as far as forty thousand feet away, x-ray vision, and night-vision. With a sad smile Ruby remembered when she'd first learned of the third capability. To be precise, she'd asked him if he'd ever used it on her. Barker had insisted that he hadn't, but during his denial he'd sounded as though he'd suddenly developed the flu.

Chuckling, Ruby took a left and headed towards the docks. Seagulls replaced the pigeons, but other than that there was no variation. Corruption and sorrow met her sight almost at every turn. In the Narrows, a pair of beggars stabbed a pregnant woman for the groceries she'd been carrying. Near the pier, sailors snuck cargo from other ships onto their own. In the Otisburg District, a teenage couple held hands as they jumped off a bridge. Outside the Stacked Deck, a seedy nightclub, a wealthy man shot his prostitute lover when she asked him for a bigger tip.

A part of Ruby still grieved at the sight. The other, far more cynical part accepted it as her hometown. But that wasn't all. She had a child to raise now. How can she bring Beryl up in a city like this? She could try homeschooling the child, but the state didn't allow that to go on after middle school. Sooner or later, Beryl would be exposed to Gotham's horror. How would she react to it?

Ruby shivered. Tried to shake it off. There was still time to think about that. Besides, she had a mission.

It was then that something caught her eye. Holding the binoculars up again, she flipped the tiny switch on the side. Immediately the mortar and bricks became invisible, laying out the interior. What she saw was nigh incomprehensible. Ruby watched, but she couldn't understand. It was just past a back entrance. Dusty and forgotten. Now, fires had been lit in a few spare bins. In the orange light, she saw clearly. Several men - hired help, if she was to judge by their shabby clothing and nervous expressions - were hauling in enough chains to restrain a dragon. Now suspended in the air, Ruby watched. She'd barely given those other crimes more than a minute of her time because they hadn't been anything new. But this?

Like Pandora picking at the forbidden box's lid, Ruby neared the sight. The binoculars never left her eyes. Nor did the men. As she watched, they selected two chains that, when laid on the ground, almost touched the room's center. These were severed from the pile of iron links and subsequently screwed into the wall. All of the men pulled on them together to ensure that the chains wouldn't come loose. Satisfied, they moved onto their next assignment: bringing in a battered junk pile that had once been a car. Confused, Ruby drew closer. They put the car in front of the chains, separating them by just a few inches. Then, one of the men left for a few minutes. Ruby was about to look for him when he came back, rolling in a vat.

"What in the...?" Ruby was about to inspect further when her jeans' pocket began to vibrate. She dropped the binoculars, letting them rest on her collarbone, and summoned her cellphone. On the screen was a cartoon penguin holding an umbrella. Pushing the 'answer' button, she held the phone to her ear. "Oz?"

"Ed just called!" Oswald exclaimed. "Kane Chemicals! We have to go there now!"

Ruby's eyes widened. Looking down, she gasped. "I'm already there!"

"Oh, thank the heavens!" Oswald cried. "Get in there, please!"

Ruby hovered there, imagining herself alone with the man who both stole Oswald's heart and threatened to throw her baby out the window. "Well, what do you expect me to do?"

"Anything!" Oswald pleaded. "Stop the kidnappers from escaping! Slaughter them if you must! Find Ed! We'll be there in..." A second's pause, "seven minutes, if there is no traffic! Please!"

Just for a second, Ruby wondered if Oswald would be so frantically concerned if she'd been kidnapped rather than Edward. But then her senses reclaimed the driver's seat. Now wasn't the time for such childish pettiness. Swallowing down her bitter pill, Ruby replied, "Roger that."

"Oh, thank you, Ruby! Thank you, thank you!" Through their connection Ruby sensed Oswald's desire to hug her tightly. She smiled faintly. "We're best friends. It's in the job description."

The front doors began to open.

"Get here soon." Ruby hung up before whizzing down. Just as the man poked his head out, a pair of arms seized his coat. Seconds later he was sixty feet in the air. Ruby's face was inches away from his. "Alright, scum-bucket. Where's Nygma? And who put you up to this?"

"Who the hell're you?!" The man asked, sounding like he'd just woken up from a nap.

Smirking, Ruby let her arms go limp. The man screamed at the jarring motion. Looked down in horror as his feet kicked the empty air. At the void separating him from the cracked cement.

"You'd better give me an answer, and quick." Ruby advised coolly. "My arms are getting tired."

For an instant there was no reply. Ruby loosened her hold on the man's coat, if only by a fraction.

"Okay, okay!" The man yelped. "I'll - I'll tell you! Just please, for the love of God, don't drop me!"

Smiling devilishly, Ruby hoisted him back up so that they were at eye-level. "Well?"

"We - Nygma! He paid us to do this!"

Ruby stopped. "What?"

"Yeah!" The man's aura was too desperate to falsify. "He - he called us up, and paid us to set this whole thing up. He gave us five hundred bucks in cash."

Ruby's eyes narrowed. "If I find that you've lied to me-"

"I'm not!" The man wept. "I swear it on my mother's grave! He said we had to get outta here by the time he made that phone call." He swallowed. "I don't know why, we just did as we were told. I swear!"

As the truth dawned to her, Ruby struggled to breathe. Her lungs shrank. Her stomach twisted. She was still for a minute, thinking of Oswald hurrying towards here like a gallant white knight. Only this time, the damsel was also the dragon. Nodding, Ruby swooped down with the screaming man in tow. Stopping about two feet above ground, she dropped the man before zipping skyward. Barely stopping to breathe, she circled the building. Kane Chemicals. That meant that there must have been something still around. Something flammable.

There!

Ruby spotted several vats, not unlike the one suspended by chains inside. Grabbing one, she hauled it into the air. Transforming one of her hands into a blade made of bone, she stabbed the container's side. Clear, sweet-smelling liquid spilled out of it like blood from a wound. She held it up, leaving a clear trail around the building. Once the circle was complete, she tossed the vat aside. Reaching into her pocket, she summoned a box of matches (handy to keep near). Lighting one, she tossed it. A ring of fire blazed into being, rising hungrily from the kerosene river.

Satisfied that no one would get out - least of all Nygma, the treacherous snake - Ruby grabbed her phone again. Quickly hit speed-dial. She harrumphed as the line beeped. Unaware that she was being watched.

At last there was a _click_. "Ruby?"

"Oz!" Ruby cried. "Listen to me: do not come here!"

"What? Why?" Oswald sounded both shocked and perplexed.

"Because it's a trap!" She replied. "I just interrogated one of the men here. It's all a set-up!"

"No!" Oswald's head-shake was audible. "No, my dear, he must have lied to free himself of culpability!"

"I was holding him over a sixty-foot drop!" Ruby protested, flapping her wings in irritation. "Either the man's an Oscar-worthy actor, or he was telling the truth." Sensing that Oswald was about to argue some more, she cut him off. "Oz, _please_ believe me. You may love Edward, but he despises you. Enough to do all this. If you come here, you'll be signing your own death warrant. _Please_." She was close to tears. Desperation, love, and terror tangled within her gut like hungry snakes.

On Oswald's end there was a deafening silence. Ruby wanted to cringe at it, dreaded it, but didn't. She knew that these were the last words her friend wanted to hear because they contradicted the perfect, fairy tale-styled rescue that he'd been envisioning. But in that moment, she couldn't bring herself to care. No fantasy is worth getting killed over.

At last, there was a long, heavy sigh. "I...need to see it for myself. But I want to see you safe first." Oswald paused, presumably looking out the window. "I'll be there in about a minute. I can see the...wait, is that you? In the sky?"

"Yes!" Ruby spun around, holding her binoculars to her eyes. Spotting the long black limousine, she began to wave. "Oz, don't come any closer!"

She would have said more.

But then a spear went through her neck.

An inhuman screech tore from Ruby's throat.

From the car, his phone still to his ear, Oswald thrust his head out the window. His eyes were huge with horror.

Ruby's wings dissolved like dust in the wind. All of a sudden she was tumbling downward, steered by the wind. Even from this distance, Oswald could hear her yowls of agony. A part of Oswald was screaming with her. He could only watch, horrified, as a geyser of blood poured from the falling girl's wound and showered the ground below. He watched, desperately hoping that this was a nightmare, as his best friend dropped from the sky like a shot pigeon. The blood didn't stop flowing, even as she crashed through one of the windows.

Through their link, Oswald felt Ruby. Felt the cold metal beams she'd crashed into. Felt the burning-cold agony, sizzling like firecrackers, in the gaping hole of her neck. Sensed the hot blood gushing from the wound, staining her clothes and skin. Felt the black edges close in. He heard Ruby give one last, faint cry. Then all went black.

Oswald's phone slipped from his trembling, cold fingers. Gasping. Tears running down his face, unnoticed. Suddenly realizing he was in his luxurious car rather than by her side, he lurched forward. "GO FASTER, YOU IMBECILE!" The driver obeyed.

* * *

A pair of well-polished shoes walked across the empty room. Leisurely. Calmly. Towards the young woman tangled in metal beams. A pool of fresh blood, growing larger by the occasional dribble, lay beneath her. Cold air blew in from the ruined window.

Eyes glanced at the mess, then at the target.

She was badly wounded, and had lost a lot of blood - at least a gallon, possibly more. Her eyes were closed, her body limp. But her chest was rising and dropping with feeble breaths.

And, as he watched, the hole in her neck - which was large enough to fit an apple through - began to close. A red, clay-like substance frothed in the ragged ends. Skin and sinew knitted themselves back together from nothing. In very little time, the injury was closed. A round, shiny scar was all that remained.

Good. She was needed alive.

A hand reached into a pocket. Found the vial. Then, the hand reached up and grabbed a handful of bloody clothing.

* * *

Oswald all but kicked the door down. Desperation gave him the strength of five men, and none of the pain that such exercise normally would. His two lackies could only stare. Pushing his way through the gap, he flashed his torch into the dusty darkness. "Ed and Ruby's safety are all that matter." He instructed the men, who also weilded flashlights. "Whoever did this will pay - but only once we have Ruby and Ed back."

Ruby's warning whispered in his ear.

He ignored it. Unable to accept it.

"Ed!" He screamed. "Ruby!"

For a long moment, there was no response. Only the infinite silence of the void. Oswald looked around, searching for the slightest movement. His nostrils caught the iron stench of spilled blood. His own blood froze in his veins. No. Ruby was still alive. He could sense her pulse, weakened and barely conscious but still holding on. Oh, why oh why had he asked her to participate? Why hadn't he anticipated something like this?

Before he could find an answer, footsteps greeted his ears. He held up the light. Eager. Terrified.

Edward walked out from behind a pile of truck tiers. His face was an expressionless mask. Oswald, in his ecstacy, did not notice. Handing the torch to the man to his left, Oswald hobbled towards Ed. Trapped him in an unreturned hug. "Are you alright?" He asked as he pulled away. "Tell me you're alright!"

"I'm fine, Oswald." Edward's voice was as robotic as an ATM's.

Oswald swallowed. "And - and Ruby? I saw her..." He had to stop. Swallowed. A stray tear ran down his face as he looked away. If only he hadn't. He'd have seen Edward spying the tear and smiling. "Someone knocked her down, and she crashed in here. Is she, well...?" Oswald stopped, realizing how stupid his question was. Of course she wasn't alright. But she wasn't dead, either. Through their bond, he could feel her regaining consciousness. It was like breaking the surface of a tar ocean.

"She's alive. For the moment." Edward answered.

"Oh, thank God." Oswald bowed his head. Looking up again, he wiped his eye. "Where are they? Who _dared_ to think they could put their hands on you or her?" Anger fired his words, saving him from sorrow.

"I'm alone."

"Oh." Oswald smiled. "You escaped!" Manic laughter rushed out of him like horses from a stable. "You did, didn't you? You rascal!"

Edward remained serious. "Did you bring anyone else?"

"What?" Oswald asked between giggles. "Why, no, I-"

Edward extracted a revolver and shot down both men with all the disinterest one has when stepping on a bug. Oswald jumped at the gunshots. Just like that, his fantasy shattered. Leaving nothing behind.

"Just wondering if I was gonna have to reload." Edward aimed the gun at Oswald. Who, in turn, felt as though he'd just woken from a pleasant dream to find a hideous nightmare waiting for him. He stood there, paralyzed, as he struggled to put words together. "I...I don't understand!"

At last the emotionless mask cracked. A smile of wicked delight shone through. "I know. That's been half the fun." Still holding the gun, he grabbed Oswald's jacket and pulled him deeper into the room. Oswald, whose feelings could not be put into words, was forced to comply on numb legs. They walked for a few feet in tense silence. Towards the lights burning in several bins.

By their light, Oswald could see. And it made him yell.

Ruby was chained to a wall opposite of a run-down car. Her ankles and wrists were heavily bound to metal ropes as thick as pot roast. The ends of the chains were screwed into the barrier. Ruby herself, despite leaning against the wall, barely looked strong enough to stand. Her clothes were so thoroughly soaked in blood that Oswald couldn't guess their original color. Yet a small pang of relief hit him when he searched for wounds, yet found none. Her head was lowered, and her mouth was gagged tightly.

As he watched, Ruby twitched. Then, slowly, she raised her head. When her eyes met his, she lurched forward without a second thought. Oswald did the same. But the chains restrained her, and Edward's powerful arms held him.

"How sweet." Edward drolled. "But I'm afraid your friend is only part of what I've got planned for you." Grabbing Oswald's face, he jerked it towards the battered ruin of an automobile. "Recognize it?"

Oswald's mind, cold with shock, came up blank.

"Oh, why should you? I doubt you did the deed yourself." Edward pointed at the former vehicle. "That car belonged to Isabella."

Panic bled into Oswald's chest. He turned to Edward, who still hadn't let go of his jacket. "Ed, whatever you've heard-"

Edward hit him with the butt of his gun. Ruby screamed through the gag. Oswald hit the floor, his head spinning.

Towering over him, Edward pointed the gun at Oswald's face. "I know it was you, Oswald." His voice was low, growling, like a savage beast. It chilled Oswald to the core. "Isabella was my everything, and you took her from me. And now I've taken everything from you." He paused, then looked back at Ruby. He knew that, despite the final ingredient in his pocket, she couldn't attack him. Not for a while.

"Well, that's not entirely true. You still have her. And you still have your life." Edward snarled. "But that ends tonight."

Ten minutes later found Oswald tied to the car, similarly gagged. Unlike Ruby, who was glaring daggers at Edward, he looked at his love with betrayal and sorrow.

Edward stood between them, his back to Ruby. "I want you to know, I understand. Even though what you did was unforgivable, I understand the jealousy that drove you. I remember loving Kristen while she went with that ape. I close my eyes, I can still see him dying at my feet. No other thought has given me greater joy." Edward smiled in an almost friendly fashion at his former ally. Oswald, in turn, looked at him with hope. Hope that they could move past this.

But then the smile vanished, replaced by icy anger. "There's a big difference, though. I killed him to protect Kristen. He'd beaten her once, enough to leave bruises, and I knew he'd do it a hundred more times. But me? I'd have died before I let myself hurt Isabella. She was _mine_. And you took her from me. Why did you do that?" For the briefest of seconds it was Ed again. The way he asked, so broken and human, made Oswald's heart hurt. But he couldn't have answered, even without the gag's interference.

Edward sighed. "It doesn't matter now. Though, I guess it would be kind to allow you to speak." He reached forward and put his fingers on the cloth tied around Oswald's head. "Just don't bite. Ruby already did, and it still hurts." He pulled it down.

Oswald shook his head. "I simply don't understand. My father...he appeared to me. I saw him."

"No." Edward shook his head. "You saw a man who I met in Indian Hill. He does killer impersonations."

Ruby's eyes widened.

"You see, Oswald...how do I put this?" Edward got close to Oswald's face. "GHOSTS. AREN'T. REAL!"

Oswald felt sick. "My father's remains...you stole them from his grave?" He mentally pleaded his friend to deny it.

"Yep!" Edward cheerily confirmed, crushing Oswald's chest. He clapped a hand on the smaller man's shoulder. "Don't worry, he's at peace now. I gently placed his remains...inside a dumpster behind a Chinese restaurant." Oswald closed his eyes, struggling with the tears, while Ruby's chains clinked. Weakened and exhausted, Ruby had fury in her eyes. Struggling against her bonds, she spat out a horde of muffled insults at Edward.

The tall man grinned. "I'm sorry, I can't understand you!"

Ruby tried to speak, but the cloth digging into her mouth blocked her words.

Edward laughed at her before Oswald's words grabbed his attention. "You are angry. I understand. I can even forgive you. But killing me is not the way."

The man stopped. Glowered at the bound crime boss. "So you admit you killed Isabella?"

Oswald's sorrow faded into rage. "Fine. Is that what you want?" He asked coldly.

"Yes!" Edward replied.

"I confess! I had her killed!" Ignoring Edward's heartbroken expression, Oswald pressed on. "But you know? You should thank me! Because we both know what would've happened if I hadn't!"

"Yes!" Edward yelled. "I could've lived a life with the woman I loved. I could've been happy." His voice cracked.

Oswald shook his head. "No, Ed. You would have killed her."

Edward slapped him. Ruby jerked her chains.

The hot pain only enraged Oswald more. "Just like you did the other one!" He yelled. "You couldn't have helped it! And afterward, you would've hated yourself!"

Edward snarled. "Well," he leaned in, "we'll never know, will we?" He turned away.

Heart cracking, Oswald whispered, "I did it for love."

Edward stopped. Slowly turned around. "What?"

Oswald was on the brink of tears, high from this cocktail of emotions. "I did it because I love you."

Ruby closed her eyes.

"You should know that."

"SHUT UP!" Edward slapped a hand over Oswald's mouth, stopping any more venomous words from spilling out. When he was sure that more wouldn't come gushing out, he spoke. His voice was barely better than a growl. "Love is about sacrifice." He pulled away. "It's about putting someone else's needs and happiness before your own!" He gestured to the bound woman. "Like Ruby does for you."

Ruby froze like a deer in headlights.

Oswald frowned. "What?"

Edward smirked. "You dummy. Really? After almost two years, you've never noticed?"

Oswald only continued to see fog, and this angered him. "What're you talking about?"

Ruby had dropped to her knees at this point. She was covering her face with her hands.

Edward stepped closer to her. Placed a hand on her curly head. Ruby was so distraught that she didn't notice. The man answered with relish. "I mean, that Ruby here has been in love with you since the word 'go'. It's so obvious even a retard could see it, and I felt it that time we fused. It was only for a few minutes, but it was strong. It felt like I was bathing in the hottest, sweetest water ever. But there was a trace of bitterness to it. 'Oh, he could never love me back! I'm a freak, a product of incest. But I just can't stop loving him'. And I thought, wow. How does someone keep all that emotion, for so long, and not blow up?" He looked down at Ruby, whose shoulders were trembling. "I guess bad taste in men is only hereditary, ain't it, Sinclair?"

Ruby shrugged him off. He backed away. Looking at Oswald, he felt nothing short of merriment. The man was panting, eyes the size of dumplings, mouth agape like a fish. He just stared at Ruby like he'd never seen her before. The sight was more satisfying than anything the Internet could come up with. Grinning with glee, Edward turned to Ruby. "Oh, cheer up! You'll get to spend the next few hours with the man you've been infatuated with for almost two years. But be sure not to waste a second of it." He pointed above Oswald's head.

"You see that vat?"

Oswald looked up. He did. It was tilted ever so slightly. He gulped.

"It's filled with a highly corosive acid." He gestured to the chain holding it into place. Specifically, to the huge block of ice keeping the iron rope taut. "When the ice melts, the chain comes loose, the vat of acid tips..." He grinned. "You get the idea." He put a device beneath the ice. With the push of a button, a long tongue of flat shot out and licked the block.

"Ed, please!" Oswald begged. "Maybe you're right. The fact that I love you proves that I can change. Just give me a chance!"

Ruby, wincing at those three little words, stared at the scene with teary eyes.

Edward, on the other hand, was unmoving. "You know as well as I that a man facing death will say anything to save his own skin. But you haven't even heard the best part yet." He pointed, again, to the ice. "That ice will take hours to melt. Three or four, I'd say. Which is why I'm giving you some entertainment." He walked back towards Ruby. Smiling coldly at her. "I thought of maybe having one of my hired help stay here and torture Ruby for you." He combed some curly hair, spotted with blood, out of her face. "Maybe carve this soft skin off her skull. Poke out those big blues. But that would be too fast. I thought of crushing her head between two blocks of concrete and have you stare at the body until you, too, died."

Oswald moved against his bonds, eyes wide with anxiety.

"But the thought of this loving face splitting open like a melon?" Edward turned to Oswald. "No, it's just not right." With that he shoved Ruby against the wall. She grunted at the impact, her eyes rolling, as Edward seized her face. He yanked down the gag.

"ED!" Oswald screamed. "Stop it! Don't! Whatever you're doing, don't!"

Edward forced her mouth open, barely saving his fingers from her snapping teeth. Popping open the vial's cap, he dumped the contents down her throat. Ruby's eyes widened. Shoving him away, weakly, she choked and spat. Yet as the liquid fire, bitter as wormwood, pooled in her belly, a new terror blossomed. Ruby looked up at her friend. "Oswald?" She sounded so small, so helpless, so vulnerable, that it struck Oswald deeper than any bullet. Edward wasted no time in putting the gag back over Ruby's mouth. Then, he stepped forward and held up the empty bottle for Oswald to see.

"Botulinum toxin. Often used for Botox injections, this stuff is pretty lethal. It causes paralysis of the muscles, to the point that the respiratory system fails and the victim dies suffocated." Edward examined the bottle with refound interest, ignoring Ruby's weeping. "Usually it takes a long time to work. But I added my own special touches to it. It'll take two hours to take effect. And the best part? It deactivates her powers."

He turned to Ruby, who stared back at him with confused eyes. "Your body's only goal is survival, like any other body. You've already lost a lot of blood. That alone would've put your powers out of use for a while. But now that you've got _this_ in your system," he wiggled the bottle in front of her, "your body will focus all of its strength on slowing the effects, and keeping you alive. That means you won't have any strength to convert into combat." He hovered over Oswald. The man's cheeks were bathing in hot tears, and he was barely suppressing his whimpers. It was pathetic.

Edward leaned in close. Whispered in his ear as he set the gag back into Oswald's mouth. "Your best friend will die here, in this room. And you'll be here watching when she does. You will live to see Ruby's corpse. To see the light fade from those big eyes, to see her body stiffen. All the while contemplating the choices you've made." He smiled. "I hope you like the fires. I didn't want you to miss a thing."

With that, he walked out of the room. Oswald, gagged and crying, climbed off the vehicle and ran towards Ruby. She did the same. But on both sides, their chains tightened. The two friends stared at each other with teary eyes as they fought and struggled to touch each other. To comfort. But Edward had thought of everything. Yes, Oswald's chains were long enough for him to get off the car. But he was still in the suspended vat's range. The chains stopped just centimeters away from each other, leaving a void that felt as great as the universe.

Oswald and Ruby had fought together, lived together, mourned together, and rejoiced together. Now, they had come full circle and were going to die together.

And they could not even share one last embrace or word.


	83. Chapter 82

Chapter 82

Ruby and Oswald sat at their posts, their chains pooled at their sides. Twenty minutes, and they'd already exhausted themselves. Twenty minutes. It felt like twenty seconds. It felt like twenty centuries. With eyes puffy and pink with tears, they looked at each other mournfully. Their gags, constricting and invading, kept them from communicating. That, too, had been Edward's plan. Not only would Oswald be forced to watch Ruby die, but they could not spend those final hours embracing and speaking. He could not say, _"I'm so sorry, this is all my fault."_ She, in turn, could not say, "It's not. And I'm sorry, too." Speaking to each other telepathically hadn't worked either. Oswald had projected everything he had - every scrap of raw emotion, every word he wanted to tell her - and thrown it across the room like a dodgeball. Ruby had only stared at him, oblivious. Apparently, her body's attempts to slow down the poison's inevitable effects had robbed her of this ability as well.

Yet she could tell that Oswald had something on his chest. She could see it in his fidgety movements, in his shifty eyes. The more she saw this, the more it itched. At last, unable to stand this lack of communication, Ruby scanned her vicinity. Dirt, mostly. Rust on the walls. A trail of dried blood where Edward had dragged her unconscious body. The thought still sent goosebumps running down her spine. An empty vat of acid, not unlike the one suspended above Oswald's wild-haired head. The empty vial that had previously contained poison. The same that was churning through her system right now, slowly putting her muscles out of use.

Swallowing, Ruby pinched herself everywhere. Her arms. Her belly. Her thighs. Her back. Nerves flared with life, signalling her of the minor annoyance. She'd just started to calm down when she got to her toes.

Nothing.

Ruby froze. She pinched her toes, visible through the worn cloth of her sneakers. Hard. Nothing. She may as well have been pushing pins into air for all of the results she was getting. It was like someone had severed the connection between the ten digits and her brain. Biting back panic, Ruby removed her shoes, then her socks. She stared at her bare feet, the toenails still painted that pearly pink. Mercury had bought her that nail polish because it had been made with organic ingredients. Ruby remembered hugging him in thanks, then inviting him to stay for dinner. She'd been so happy that evening. Kept glancing down at her shiny pedicure.

Now, her toes were stiff and unmoving. She told them to move. They ignored her. A crumb of panic finally wriggled its way into her brain as she dragged her nails across her toes. The thin, outmost layer of skin broke. But she felt absolutely nothing.

And it had only been twenty minutes, if the old clock in the corner was correct.

Ruby screamed through her gag. Oswald twisted to look at her, eyes wide with concern. He could only watch, helpless, as she cradled her head in her arms and began to weep. Oswald tried to speak through the gag, but it was useless. He doubted that she'd have heard him over her sobs, anyway. Ruby cried and wailed, the gag quickly darkening, and hugged herself. When at last she calmed down (if only a little), she looked up. Indigo met icy-blue. Her eyes hardened as they darted downward. She lurched forward, snatching the vial. She brought it down, shattering it. Grabbing one of the longer shards, Ruby held it against her cheek. Against the gag's edge. Slowly, carefully, she sawed her way through half a centimeter. Maybe less. But the tear was enough for her to grab, pull, and widen. The gap yawned untl her face was free. The area it had covered was red from being tightly bound.

Oswald felt relief rush over him.

Ruby wept a few more tears, barely bothering to wipe them away. "Oswald." His name sounded like music coming from her. Shifting into a more comfortable sitting position, she placed the shard that had freed her on the ground. Aiming carefully, she let it slide. It skidded across the floor with a music _zzzssssh_. Then, it thumped against a tire of the dead girlfriend's car. Oswald seized it. Held it up as though it were the Holy Grail. Then, he did as Ruby had done. Gasping for breath when he was at last freed. "Ruby." He coughed and winced as his facial muscles, numb from restraint, slowly awakened.

Ruby shed a few more tears, but the shadow of a smile rested on her face. Oswald did the same. Not much had changed. But at least, they could speak to each other now.

Oswald swallowed. "What happened? Right before you freed yourself?"

That phantom smile vanished. She stared at him before slowly looking down at her feet again. As he followed her stare, he saw her drag her toes against the broken glass. Blood beaded here and there, yet she gave no reaction.

Then, it dawned on him. "Oh."

"Yes." Ruby began to cry again. She covered her face with her hands. "I...I don't want to die, Oz! I'm only 27." She whimpered. "I don't want to die. I _don't_. I'm not ready."

"You will not die." Oswald reassured both her and himself. He tried to reach for her, but the chains reminded him of Edward's final cruelty. Lowering his hands, he looked around. "It...Edward said it would take two hours, did he not? That still leaves us with plenty of time to figure out a way to escape." He tried to grab Ruby's stare, and was grateful when he caught it. "But I cannot free us both, Ruby. Your freeing yourself from the gag was great, but it won't be enough to get us out."

Ruby nodded shakily. "Okay." Looking around, she said, "Uh, first things first, we need something to pick the locks."

"Right!" Oswald, too, began to search the floor. Screws, hairpins, anything. The clock counted off five minutes. Then, ten. But his search only resulted in several false starts. He tried to use a piece of barbed wire, but it only got stuck in the law. He was forced to yank it out with his teeth, scraping his lip in the process. Ruby tried shaking loose tiles free, but that, too, failed. Then, she noticed where the chains had been drilled into the wall. It wasn't that high up. Using the ropes as leverage she walked up the wall, panting and sweating all the way through. Her body screamed at her to stop. For a second, Ruby considered. She could feel that there wasn't enough fuel in her tank to power this exercise. But no. If she could figure out how to free herself, then exhaustion wouldn't matter.

Just then, her legs gave out on her.

With a yelp she slipped. Landed on her back six feet below.

"Ruby!" Oswald yelled. Out of instinct he tried to run towards her, but his bonds stopped him at the midway point. Ruby lay there, groaning. "Are you alright?!" He called, desperate for an answer.

Ruby moaned painfully. With some effort she pulled herself up. She winced and rubbed the back of her head. Thankfully, she felt no blood. But then, her eyes returned to her legs. Specifically, below the knees. Shaking uncontrollably, she reached down and pinched her thigh. Okay. Normal. Then, she did the same to her knees. She was greeted by a stinging sensation, as though the meat there had been frozen and then stuffed with pins. Ruby's fingers trickled a little lower. Then, she pinched. Hard.

Nothing. Absolutely, positively nothing. No matter how much her knuckles had whitened, no matter how much skin she held between her thumb and index finger, Ruby felt numbness.

She sat there, breathing quickly, as stray tears ran down her face.

For the first time, she realized how much she'd taken it all for granted. The hot blood rushing through her veins. Her strong arms and crafty fingers. Her eyes, ears, and voice. Her lungs, shrinking and growing with every breath like paper bags. Ruby had never fully stopped to appreciate these things. True, she had been happy with her improved physical condition once Strange had fixed her. But that wasn't quite the same. In that case, Ruby had rejoiced at finally giving her wasting, underdeveloped muscles some use and helping them grow strong.

But now, the opposite was happening. She was withering away, and only now realized what a blessing her body had been. Powers or not.

Ruby covered her face with her hands.

Oswald didn't need her to tell him. He could see it. The poison was spreading. Suddenly, an awful thought presented itself. Edward had said that the venom would slowly put Ruby's muscles out of use. To the point that she'd die of suffocation. But did that mean that Ruby's brain would go before then? What about her heart? Would she choke to death without fully understanding what was happening? Without being able to see him, or hold him?

He shook his head. No, the thought was too horrible to consider. Plus, it wouldn't become a reality. Ruby would live. He had to believe that, lest he lose his mind to grief.

Oswald swallowed. Needing to distract them both, he spoke. "Ruby."

His friend didn't hear him. She just kept crying in her hands, shoulders shaking, while her increasingly useless legs curled beneath her.

He spoke a little louder. "Ruby?"

She looked up, wiping her eyes posthaste. Behind the tears, she was curious.

"Um," Oswald looked down, suddenly bashful, "do you recall what Ed said? About, er, you?"

For a nanosecond, Ruby didn't comprehend. But when she did, her face became the color of a boiled pepper. "Oh, God." She covered her face again, this time with shame. "Just..." She sighed shakily. Raised her head again, yet her eyes were closed. "Well, what do I have to lose? I'll be dead soon enough."

"You won't-"

"I don't want to bring this secret to my grave." Ruby shook her head. Finally, she looked at him. "I..." Bit her lip. "I love you, Oswald."

There. She'd said it. At last. She'd made it real.

Even though he'd been almost expecting it, Oswald still felt as though all of the air had been sucked out of the room. His throat felt hard and cold, as though he'd eate a pail's worth of ice cubes. Those words flew like an arrow and pierced his mind. There they fermented, breeding more emotions than he'd thought possible. Affection. Recognition. But above all, he felt touched. More than he'd thought he could.

"Oz?" Ruby asked in alarm. "What's wrong?"

Oswald didn't realize he'd been crying until he touched his cheeks and felt the dampness. He gave a feeble smile. "Is this why people get so worked up over those three words? Because hearing them feels like this?"

"Like...like what?" Ruby tried to reach him, but the chains stopped her. "Did I...hurt you?" Already suspecting his answer she cursed, wishing she could take it back.

"What? No." Oswald sobbed with a smile. "It feels wonderful. Now I'm starting to understand what all the fuss is about."

Ruby smiled, wiping her cheeks some more. But it was short-lived. She looked at the clock, and sighed. She had an hour and ten minutes left. Well, might as well keep the secrets coming. "And...I know you don't love me back." She gave a small chortle. "I've known since the morning after the party. Remember?"

Oswald didn't, for a moment. Then, the sun rose in his mind. The golden morning. Olga speaking in Russian. Him feeling warm and fuzzy.

 _"I have no choice but to confess my feelings to Ed."_

Oswald's jaw dropped as all the pieces finally fit together. "You heard, didn't you?"

"Every word." Ruby confirmed sadly. "And...I'd been planning to tell you...you know."

"Oh, heavens." Oswald covered his mouth with both hands. Shame sank through his skin like lead. He remembered everything that had followed. Ruby's coldness, her distance. "I must have hurt you very deeply."

Ruby didn't confirm it. She didn't have to.

"I...broke your heart." Oswald shook his head slowly. Feeling like he'd opened the floodgates but had found only lava waiting on the other side. "Ruby, I swear, that was never my intention. I swear it."

"I know." Ruby nodded. "But I still hurt a lot. I had a hard time even being near you because..." She swallowed. "Because I was so in love with you. And you just kept being so sweet, so kind...and knowing that such an amazing person loved someone else broke me more than you can imagine. I felt abandoned. Everyone in my life, it seemed, leaves sooner or later. My parents. Your father. And, in that moment, it felt that you'd left, too." She wiped her eyes. "But then, I understood. Yes, you didn't love me - and you still don't. You know what, though? It doesn't really matter. Because I love you." She gave a feeble smile.

Oswald, in spite of the shame still brewing in his chest, returned the gesture. Then, he straightened. He knew that it may hurt, but Ruby had bared her soul to him. What sort of dishonest monster would he be if he didn't reciprocate? Especially now? He swallowed. "Ruby...you have to know. I don't love you, but I wish that I did. Any man would be lucky to have you."

Ruby sniggered, looking away.

"No, really!" Oswald continued. "You're kind, sweet, intelligent...you've been the best friend I could ask for." He wiped a tear from his eye. "And I truly wish that I loved you back. But I can't."

"I know." Ruby nodded. "But...thanks for telling me. It means a lot." She tried to stand, but her legs wobbled beneath her like a newborn calf's. Crashing back down, she whimpered. Trembling, she pinched her thighs. Then, what little color had returned to her face drained away. The fear in her eyes stung Oswald, compelling him to speak. "Ruby! Ruby, look at me. Look at me, please."

Ruby obeyed, trying to hold back the tears.

Oswald held out his hands, wishing he could hold hers. "Everything's going to be alright. One way or another, we'll be alright."

Ruby didn't seem to believe him. At least not fully. But she tried to nod. "Y-yeah. We're a team. Like Tom and Jerry. Harold and Maude. Bonnie and Clyde. Holmes and Watson. Mashed potatoes and gravy. Or, in my case, veggie gravy."

They both laughed a little.

Meanwhile, the clock continued to tick.


	84. Chapter 83

**C** hapter 83

Mercury paced back and forth in the apartment, biting his nails and muttering to himself. Every few seconds he glanced at the clock. Then, he'd look at his cellphone. Stubbornly, it didn't ring. Finally, to conclude the cycle of anxiety, he'd cast a watchful eye on Beryl. Every now and then a string of bubbly drool would gather at her lip, but other than that she slept.

Mercury envied her. He'd barely seated himself in the last three hours, never mind catching z's.

Ruby hadn't come home yet. Normally, that wouldn't have been an issue. Considering she came running whenever Mayor Hair Gel snapped his fingers, it wasn't odd to consider the jobs that she had to undertake. But no matter what she did, Ruby never failed to update Mercury. Either she called, texted, or answered the phone. She'd done none of those things today. Mercury had called a total of twenty-five times, and sent over thirty messages, to no avail. What had started as a little worm of panic had become a fully-grown snake growing fat on his sanity.

He wanted to believe that everything was fine. That Ruby would be home soon, maybe with some Chinese take-out and a rented film to make up for her tardiness. But as much as he tried to muffle it, that little voice in Mercury's head kept yelling that _something simply wasn't right_. Ruby would never fail to call back. Never. Once, she'd answered while suspending a junkie upside-down and shaking him like a maraca, trying to obtain the money that he'd owed Oswald. His screams and the sound of objects falling from his pockets had had Mercury in stitches.

He licked his lips, which were bloody and bruised from his constant biting. Looking at the telephone, he contemplated. Ruby had told him who to call should something ever happen. Just to be safe. But he sure as hell didn't want to talk to that person. Besides, it wasn't even guarenteed that the dude would pick up. He was a refugee, after all.

Swallowing hard, Mercury picked up the phone and took it to the desk. There, he rummaged through the drawers until, at last, he found the number.

He pressed 'CALL'.

* * *

Somewhere miles away from Gotham, a cellphone rang. The sudden vibrations in a stolen pair of trousers' pocket puzzled the owner. Few had his number, and even fewer used it. Only a few feet away his partner, without whom he'd have been dragged back into custody, sat on an overturned garbage bin. A pile of crumpled dollar bills sat on her lap. She counted under her breath.

The man turned away, knowing how much his partner despised interruptions and distractions. He held up the phone, and froze.

He answered. He listened. And then, he hung up.

"My dear," he said, "I'm afraid we'll have to take a detour."

Pause. Then, in a low voice laced with venom, his partner inquired, "How much of a detour?"

"We must return to Gotham. Or a life will end. A life that I worked very hard to preserve."

* * *

Ruby sat, propped by the wall. Oswald leaned against the car's cracked windshield. The flame continued to lick at the block of ice, which was now a little more than half of its original size. The clock, one of the few original factory items that still worked, counted off the minutes. Second by agonizing second.

One hour, ten minutes.

That was all Ruby had left. Oswald had two more hours than that.

Ruby swallowed. "Look," she said, "when I die-"

"You're not going to die." Oswald insisted.

"But if I do," Ruby pressed on, "you don't have to look. I _don't_ want you to look." She gave a feeble, humorless laugh. "I'd move out of sight, but, ah..." She gestured to the lower half of her body. Her hips had stopped responding to her commands about a minute ago.

Oswald was touched by the consideration, but he shook his head. "Ruby, listen to me. And this time, listen properly: _you are not going to die_."

Ruby sniggered, once again lacking humor. "Yeah, and the Lone Ranger didn't have a thing with Tonto." She gave a shaky breath, then hugged herself. For a few minutes she was silent, and Oswald let her be. He didn't want to upset her, or provoke her. Not in their final hours.

After which he'd be forced to watch her die. Knowing that she'd been in love with him for all this time, and he'd never noticed.

Oswald looked down at the crushed car that was currently serving both as his seat and his trap. He remembered all too well the order that he'd given, and the inevitable outcome. He'd done it in a pathetic, childish attempt to win back the affections of an emotionally unavailable man. He'd thought that eliminating what he'd perceived as a distraction would drive Edward into his waiting arms. Edward was right. That hadn't been love. It had been petty jealousy and infatuation.

He'd done all that when he'd been the object of love for another. Oswald still didn't know how to feel about that; not completely. He of course meant what he'd told her. Ruby was a wonderful person, and he was certain that any man would've been lucky to have her affections. Oswald cared deeply for her, and wanted to see her happy. He thought that, if they'd ever decided to get married, she would have made a fine companion in both financial and personal fields. He could have given her the option of abandoning the name of a family who had abandoned her. Make her a Cobblepot, and be done with it. In addition, he could have been a proper father to Beryl. Their relationship would solidify, no doubt, and they would have spent many joyous years together. But even then, he knew, he would not love Ruby. Not in that way.

But beyond that...wow. Ruby, his best friend, _loved_ him. A part of him still had trouble digesting that fact. Ruby, the one who'd seen him in his pajamas hundreds of times; the one who'd cooked for him, and always knew what to extract from the liquor cabinet when he was upset; Ruby, who'd consoled and comforted him countless times; the one with whom he'd shared his deepest secrets, and had returned the favor...was in love with him. All this time, she'd seen everything positive and negative about Oswald, spotted every imperfection and even suffered for them...and she loved him all the same. It felt like he'd been looking at something for so long, he had stopped taking in the details and become blind to what should have been obvious all along.

He felt honored, but at the same time ashamed. Ashamed that he couldn't, as much as he wanted to, love her back.

In the end, though, Oswald decided that it didn't matter. They were best friends. And they would get out of this situation. Together. Even if he had to drag her numb body all the way back home. Bum knee be damned.

Ruby's soft crying drove Oswald's thoughts away. He turned to find her holding her head in her hands, weeping gently. He tried to reach her, but of course the chains protested.

"Beryl." Ruby whispered. More tears ran down her cheeks. As they landed on her shirt, they darkened the dried bloodstains. "I...I adopted her because...because I wanted her to have something I never had: a loving parent. Someone who will love and cherish you, no matter what. And now..." She sucked in a breath. "I'm going to die here, chained up, and leave her all alone again. What if..." She whimpered. "What if Opal finds out? What if she tries to get her back?"

"Ruby," Oswald licked his lips. "I promise you, you will see Beryl again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Ruby advised through her sobs.

"Even if you do not," Oswald continued, "I swear to you, Beryl will always have a future as long as I draw breath."

Ruby sniffled, but didn't sob. She looked at him with her huge eyes. Speechless.

Oswald continued. "If you...die..." A lump formed in his throat as the prospect, "I will adopt Beryl. I will make sure she has the happiest childhood I can give her. I will ensure that she's healthy, and has the chance to go to the finest schools." He offered Ruby the best smile he could. "She will be taken care of, I swear it."

"Oh, Oz..." Ruby cried some more, but Oswald could tell that these tears were of a different breed than their predecessors. "I...words can't thank you enough."

"You don't have to." Oswald replied. "All I would ask in return is..." He sniggered. "That crab cake recipe of yours."

Ruby blinked, then chortled. It was the first true laughter he'd heard her emit in a while. "The last time you tried to make them, you set the kitchen on fire!"

Oswald cackled at the memory. "Indeed. Repairing it cost me over five thousand dollars."

Ruby shook her head. "And we had to buy a fresh set of pots and pans." She smiled at him, truly and fully. Gratitude and love shone through her face like sunbeams. Oswald, despite his guilt, was grateful that he could finally see it.

Suddenly, Ruby groaned and hunched over. Clutching her middle.

"Ruby!" Oswald tried to reach her. And failed. He could only watch as she hugged her middle, gasping and moaning. Tears prickled at the edges of her eyes. " _It hurts!_ " She yelled. " _It **hurts!**_ " For a brief second, Oswald felt it through their connection. That second was enough. It felt like his entire midsection suddenly turned to lead. Heavy. Useless. Painful. He felt his intestines turn to metal coil, as limp and lifeless as a pile of worms. His stomach, just an acidic little sack. The liver, the kidneys...they throbbed once, hard, and faded into darkness.

Ruby at last fell silent, lying on her side and breathing hard. For a few minutes her eyes rolled back, showing only whites. That, and her ragged breathing, would stay in Oswald's nightmares for a long time. At last, unable to stand it, he spoke. "Ruby. Ruby, please. How do you feel?"

Ruby's eyes returned to normal. She lay there, contemplating, before answering:

"Half-dead."

* * *

Breaking into the apartment was child's play. The lock was cheap, to say the slightest, and the wood was showing signs of decomposition.

Plus, it helped to have a knife.

Edward slipped through the gap, his eyes searching behind those thickly-rimmed specs. The last time he'd been here, he'd felt that the place was homey. Now, he saw a battlefield where everyone alive was an enemy.

And that means _everyone_.

He looked around, seeing signs of life. A plate, crusty with drying melted cheese, sitting near the sink. A broom leaning against the closet's door, its bristles hosting plenty of dust-bunnies. An empty baby's bottle on the coffee table amongst open geology books.

Suddenly, he heard a baby's gurgle coming from the bedroom. Smiling, he checked his pants' leg. There, strapped to his shin, his sheathed knife was warm with blood-lust. Quiet as a shadow he approached the bedroom. As he passed the bathroom door, he heard a toilet flushing. Good. Hopefully, the babysitter would be too busy in there to hear anything. Not that there would be anything to hear.

The bedroom was small but expertly decorated, from a poster of Owl City on the back of the door to the pile of books on the nightstand. The windows' lava-hued curtains were drawn. A carpet patterned with intertwining vines and flowers muffled his footsteps. There, at the base of the double bed (where the surface was rumpled and a few open comic books lay), was the crib. And in it...

Edward smiled down at the baby. "Remeber me?"

Beryl made a little gurgling noise again, with tiny bubbles forming between her pouty lips. Lying admist soft pink blankets, with her fiery hair, she looked like a child of flame. Her eyes were huge and green as they looked up at him, questioning but not suspicious. She was dressed in a one-piece pajama: black, with yellow around the hands and feet.

Good. Black hides all stains.

He picked up the child with one hand. Held her against his chest. "Don't worry," he bent over and found his knife, "you won't feel a thing." He held the tip of the blade to Beryl's soft throat.

" _But you sure as hell will!_ "

A second later, a small explosion went off atop Edward's head. He stumbled as black spots appeared in his vision. His grip on the baby loosened, but not enough to drop her. He whirled around, breathing through gritted teeth. Panting Mercury stood there, holding an encyclopedia over his head like an ogre with a rock. His eyes were wild with both shock and fury. "What the hell are YOU doing here, string-bean?!" He demanded.

Edward scoffed. "You're Ruby's lapdog, aren't you?"

"Drop the kid!" Mercury yelled, raising the book higher, "Or else!"

"Or else, what?" Edward laughed. "You're going to make me hit the books?"

Mercury threw the book. He'd aimed for the face, and hit the target. As the flying weight slammed into his nose full-force, he stumbled backwards. The knife slipped from his grip. So did Beryl. She began to cry. Mercury quickly gathered the child, thinking nothing of the blade until it was too late.

A shine of silver raced towards them.

Screaming, Mercury ran out the bedroom with Beryl at hand. He slammed the door and twisted the lock. Not a second later, the door shook. Mercury backed away, panting and trying to hush the weeping child. But even as he saw the door struggle, and heard those curses, he had to ask.

"Why?" He cried. "Why would you go after an innocent baby?"

"She's Ruby's kin!" Edward roared. "And that harlot loves her! That's more than enough reason to spill her blood! Besides, that baby is a product of incest. I would be doing her a favor!"

"At least she's not as fucked up as a potential baby killer!" Mercury snapped. Shaking his head, he added, "And to think Ruby used to _care_ about a psycho like you! Maybe it's better than things turned out this way! You never deserved her friendship anyway!"

A voice materialized before him. "Mr. Mercury, I presume?"

For a moment, Mercury froze. Then, still holding Beryl close, he turned around.

Two people stood before him. The open window brought in a breeze that ruffled their hair. One was an African-American woman in leather, her short hair dyed crimson and one of her eyes a bright blue. The other was an Asian man with a shaved head, a pair of square glasses, and a lab coat over normal clothing.

Dr. Strange stepped forward and shook Mercury's shock-limp hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Now, where is my creation?"


	85. Chapter 84

**C** hapter 84

"Ruby, you're being absurd!"

The young woman ignored him. She pushed two empty vats together, forming a small barrier, with her shoulders.

Yes. Shoulders. Not hands. She had lost the use in those five minutes ago, and her wrists had begun to itch.

"Ruby!" Oswald yelled. "Please, just listen!"

"Oz, please." Ruby's voice was croaked from so much sobbing. "I...I don't think I have much time left. It won't be long before my heart and lungs are down for the count. I don't want you to see that." She swallowed. "I can't choose the way I go, but I can choose who sees it and who doesn't." With a restrained whimper, she shouldered the vats until the gap between them closed.

Oswald sighed, turning away and cradling his face. For a few minutes, the only noises to be heard were Ruby's grunts and the scraping of metal against concrete. He wanted to say so much, yet he couldn't find the words. It was like trying to uleash an entire river through a syringe. With a second sigh, he looked back at Ruby. She sat up, panting and wiping sweat from her brow. Her hands hung uselessly like overripe fruit. It was a startling sight.

But not as much as the block of ice. Or, rather, a thin triagle. Somehow, despite the flame's voracious appetite, the chain was still taut enough to keep him from taking an acid shower. But time waits for no one. Not even the head of the underworld, if he could still wear such a title. Before too long, that rope of rusty metal would come lose and the vat would go bottoms-up. But not before Ruby died. Edward had made that abundantly clear.

That was when Oswald heard something. For a second he hardly recognized them, trapped as he'd been in this horror show.

But then, he realized what he was listening to. Especially as it neared, giving him a better chance to hear.

"Ruby!" His cry stopped his friend in her tracks. She turned around, eyes wide, just in time to see a flashlight blink into being like an evening star. She gasped. "HEY!" Yelling, she tried to crawl closer but winced. Held her ribs. Panic shot through Oswald. It was spreading. "HELP! He screamed. "HELP, WE'RE IN HERE!"

The footsteps stopped for a second, then quickened. Grew louder. At last, a figure appeared. A guard. He slowed down as he entered, taking in the scene with huge eyes. "What in tarnation is going on here?"

"Untie me at once!" Oswald yelled. "I must take my friend to a hospital! Quick!"

The guard, deaf to Oswald's words, flashed the light in his pallid face. "Who're you?"

"I am the mayor of Gotham!" Oswald replied, trying to remain calm. "And if you do what I ask, you will be handsomely rewarded. Now DO IT!"

"Um, uh..." The guard flashed the torch above Oswald, examining the suspended vat, before finally seeing Ruby. "Oh, there she is. What's wrong with her?"

"Oh, nothing." Ruby replied sarcastically. "Just, you know, dying."

The guarded sniggered. "The little lady's got a sense of humor."

Suddenly Ruby's eyes widened. Rolling on her back she began to hyperventilate. All color drained from her face. Through their bond Oswald felt it. His lungs, growing cold and flabby as jellyfish. The heart beating even more frantically, burning and aching, even as the poison began to seep towards it. He cried out, struggled against his chains. "Get me out of these chains! She can't breathe! HURRY!"

"Okay, okay!" The guard looked around before tugging at the chains. When he spotted the locks hanging from Oswald's wrist and ankle, he picked at them. Then, brightening, he summoned his gun. "Hold still!" He advised before firing. With a jolt and a spark they fell away. Oswald wasted no time in freeing himself. The policeman helped a bit, but he wasn't nearly fast enough for the mayor's liking. Jumping to his feet, and ignoring his bum knee, Oswald ran towards Ruby. Out of instinct she'd tried to grasp her throat, but her useless hands simply sat there, lax and unmoving. Judging by how boneless her arms were from the elbow down, the muscles had gone out there, too. Her gasps were growing more desperate.

Oswald spun around. "Free her!"

Without checking to see if the cop had heard (or obeyed), Oswald pulled Ruby on his lap. He allowed himself a moment to rejoice. Finally, he could touch her again. It had only been a couple of hours, but it felt like ages. Like water on parched soil, he celebrated her strong, solid form. Her warmth.

Then, he pressed his lips over hers. He felt her body - what was left unaffected, at least - stiffen from shock. Concentrating, he breathed in deeply through his nostrils and exhaled into Ruby's mouth. He put his hand on her chest. There! He felt his breath raise the skin underneath. It was slight, but it was there. Smiling against Ruby's lips, he placed the other hand in her hair. He proceeded to breathe for her, into her, even as his own lungs complained about the lack of air.

Two gunshots, and Ruby was free.

Granting her one last, generous breath, Oswald pulled away for a second. Ruby kept her lips sealed, trying to keep in the oxygen. Oswald licked his slightly sore mouth, and tasted strawberry lipbalm. Ruby looked at him with wide eyes, a thousand emotions churning through them, as he freed her limbs. Once the chains released her from their cold bite, Oswald slipped an arm under her knees. Then, he stopped.

He realized.

He couldn't carry her. Ruby weighed a good thirty pounds more than him, and he had a damaged knee that barely tolerated his own weight.

Swallowing hard, he turned to demand the cop's assistance.

Instead, he found himself looking into a pair of familiar eyes. One dark brown. One icy, icy blue.

His mouth went as dry as sandpaper. He tried to swallow. And failed. "Fish?"

"Hello, Oswald." The former boss nodded cordially. Looking past him, she saw Ruby. A ripple of concern shone on her face. Oswald seized the occasion. "I know I hardly deserve it," he said, "but please, delay whatever act of vengeance you wish to rain down on me. Ruby is dying. She can barely breathe on her own. _Please_."

Ruby tried to talk, but all that came out was a wheeze. She bit her lip hard. Her body convulsed, void of air.

Without talking, Fish reached into her jacket's inner pockets. She extracted something that was worth more than all the money in the world: a mask of plastic and metal, not unlike the ones found in airplanes.

Ruby tried to grab it, but of course couldn't. Oswald took the mask and placed it over his friend's face. Her gasps slowed down, causing the bag attached to the mask to shrink and grow in rapid succession. At last her breathing steadied, and she smiled tenderly up at Oswald. Tears filled his eyes, matching her own, as he bent down and embraced her. She tried to return the gesture, but her muscles ignored her.

"It's only a temporary solution, dear." A male voice boomed through the chamber. Heads turned. Standing in the doorway, with the unconscious cop at his feet, stood Hugo Strange. He, like Fish, was dressed in cheap and mismatched clothing: a white shirt, a black coat with shoulder pads, and worn jeans. Yet his glasses, and his devilish smile, remained the same. "We must hurry," he advised, "before the poison begins affecting her heart as well."

* * *

A dusty Toyota, with dried mud on its wheels and its license plate changed, skidded through the city. Avoiding busy streets lest Nygma's spies be watching, it moved through alleys and narrow roads. Every so often it drove on a red light, cut other cars off, or simply trespassed on a sidewalk. Fish drove with one hand, using the other to twirl her red-dyed locks this way and that. Hugo sat in the passenger seat, repeatedly looking back at his creation. Ruby lay with her head on Oswald's lap, struggling to breathe. Oswald stroked her hair, holding her hand even though he knew she couldn't feel it. She looked up at him with tired, bloodshot eyes. They were filled with such love that Oswald wondered how he could have failed to see it before.

"It's alright, Ruby. Breathe." He tried to console her. "Everything is going to be alright. Professor Strange will fix you up, good as new." He looked up. "Will you not?"

"It should be an easy task." Strange replied, meeting his gaze through the rearview mirror. "You told me the poison administered is the same substance used in Botox injections. Normally, those exposed to it have to wait anything between 12 to 72 hours to see an effect, but Nygma's meddling made the venom act quickly. Worry not, though: in all other cases, antitoxins work. The same should be applied here."

"'Should'?" Oswald echoed. His terror quickly boiled into anger. "If Ruby dies because of your incompetence-"

Strange spun around so rapidly it silenced Oswald. The scientist's expression finished the job. "I will do everything I can, and more. Ruby Sinclair is some of my finest work, and I have no intention of letting it go to waste." His voice simmered. "Do not mistakenly believe that you are the only one in this vehicle to care about her."

Oswald bit his lip, scowling but silent. He resumed looking down at Ruby, who had tensed during the discussion. Adjusting her mask, he pushed some hair out of her eyes. Avoiding eye contact, he asked, "How did you find us?"

"Easy." This time, it was Fish who answered. Without looking away from the road, she reached down and grabbed a stick of gum. She elaborated while leisurely chewing. "We got a phone call a coupla hours ago by some dude who knows your friend here. Uh, don't remember his name. Malachite, or some shit."

"Mercury." Ruby whispered, amazed. A tiny smile appeared on her face.

"Yeah, him." Fish zipped past a Maserati, ignoring the curses that poured from its window. "He said he got Hugo's name from a scrap o' paper Ruby kept 'just in case'. The hospital, the GCPD, a few gangsters who owe her a favor, stuff like that. He said Ruby'd been gone for hours and wasn't answering her phone, which never happened. So, we started our way back here." She blew a bubble the size of a tennis ball. It cracked, then slipped back between her lips. "I checked my cell every once in a while, since nothin' good was on the radio, and found a few vids of your friend falling from the sky."

Oswald stopped. Momentarily stunned, but his anger made a rebound. "Videos?"

"Yeah, Facebook and Instagram are full of 'em." Fish took a hard left. "I thought they might've been fake, but yeah. Hugo recognized her."

Oswald's hands clenched into fists. He envisioned dozens of people seeing Ruby crashing into the building, losing gallons of blood, and filming it all with vague interest. Like her being stabbed through the throat and falling through a window had been a spectacle arranged for them. They had filmed Ruby's take-down, uploaded it on the Internet for the world to see, and then went about their daily lives. Probably not feeling a crumb of guilt over it.

Ruby coughed. Winced. Oswald felt it through their bond. The muscles in his throat, starting to slack off. His heart, slowing down. Then, slowing down some more.

No.

Not her, too.

Oswald bent over her. Looked into her eyes. Carefully, he removed her mask. Before she could notice the lack of air, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. Fully. Gently. Desperately. He felt Ruby gasp against his lips, then return the kiss as well as she could. She moved her lips against his, shy but longing, as he breathed into her again. The taste of strawberries invaded his mouth again. Flutters ran down Oswald's spine. He felt ghostly touches as Ruby held him not with her hands, but with her mind. He pulled away, pulled the mask back over Ruby's face, and rested his forehead on hers. "Don't you dare." He whispered. "Don't you dare surrender, Ruby Sinclair. That's an order."

Ruby's face was the color of a ripe cherry. She gave a sheepish smile. He felt her thoughts tapping against his mind's door, asking to be let in. Oswald consented, and heard her voice. It was barely above a whisper:

 _You didn't have to do that._

Oswald gave a short, quiet bark of a laugh.

 _I needed to motivate you somehow._

Ruby rolled her eyes.

 _A strawberry-banana milkshake would've been enough._

Oswald cupped her cheek.

 _I'll buy you a Dairy Queen before the week is out._

Ruby nodded, still smiling feebly.

 _Deal._

Then, she dozed off. Oswald held her close, but let her sleep. Heavens knew she needed it. In an attempt to distract himself, he set to work cleaning the congealing blood from her face. Finding a box of Kleenex under the seat, he doused each tissue with water (courtesy of an abandoned bottle near his foot) and gently rubbed it against each stain. As he busily scrubbed away each spot of red, he reflected. Why _had_ he kissed Ruby? Well, he knew that what he'd told her had been true, at least in part: if there was even the smallest chance that kissing her would motivate her enough to hold on, then he'd kiss her until both their mouths were bruised. Even though guilt gnawed at him, hissing that he was simply leading her on, he tried his best to stifle it. Desperate times, desperate measures.

But as the last of the blood came away on the soggy tissue, Oswald realized something.

Deep down, beneath the outer surface of serenity that he was more-or-less maintaining for Ruby's sake, he was terrified. Terrified that he would lose her, just as he'd lost his parents and the love of the only man he'd ever been infatuated with. The thought crippled him. But at the same time it pushed him. Made him hold onto her however he could.

In truth, that kiss had been planted to save them both.

The car began to slow down, at last. Oswald glanced out the grimy window. Dirty brick walls flanked the car as it came to a halt. In front of them was a ruined old building that probably hadn't heard a human voice in years. The windows were boarded up. The door was little more than a large rectangle of rotting wood. The walls were so filthy with dirt and graffiti that Oswald couldn't guess their original color. The roof had more holes in it than cartoon cheese.

Fish killed the engine, then claimed the keys. "C'mon, my little penguin." She purred. "It's time to visit the doctor."

"You mean...?" Oswald could barely finish his sentence.

"Yes." Professor Strange answered. "This used to be a clinic. We were able to revitalize a few of the machines, and stole some goods from the pharmacy in downtown." He looked first at Oswald, then at the sleeping young woman in his lap. "I saved her life once, nine years ago. We must hope that I can do it again."


	86. Chapter 85

Chapter 85

The next couple of hours lasted an eternity.

Oswald watched, feeling as powerless as a moth in a snowstorm, as Ruby was laid to rest on a dusty mattress. Fish knelt beside her, whispering motherly words of encouragement, while Strange snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. He removed the mask, replacing it with a tube hooked to a humming machine. Once Ruby was breathing steadily, Strange summoned a bottle of antitoxin. He injected the rubbery cap with a syringe. Slowly, its glass belly filled. Then, he tied a strap to Ruby's bicep. Before long, the blue vein appeared in the crook of her elbow. Oswald held her hand as the syringe sank in. The liquid drained into her bloodstream. Ruby merely blinked down at the process, both comforted and disturbed by the numbness.

They repeated the procedure again, and again.

Until Ruby cracked a smile.

Oswald was the first to notice. He leaned over her, protective as a hen. "What is it, dear?"

Ruby's indigo eyes shifted downward. Oswald's icy blues followed. Her toes, the nails still painted that pearly pink color. They were twitching.

A tear ran down Ruby's cheek. "I can..."

"Yes." Strange undid the strap from Ruby's bicep. He smiled down at her as though she were a child he'd just given a flu shot to. "I've injected you with enough antitoxin to begin undoing the poison's effects. It's risky to use too much all at once, ergo you will require another three shots in," he examined his watch, "an hour. By that time, the numbness in your legs will have worn off. But you still cannot breathe on your own, so do not remove it."

"It burns." Ruby's nose twitched.

"I know." Strange replied. "But do not remove it, all the same."

Ruby sighed, but didn't argue.

Strange left the dank room, his eyes set on the car and its hidden supplies. Fish watched him go, then cast a small but kind smile on Ruby. She put her hand on her arm. "I'll get you something warm to eat. You need your strength."

Both touched and confused, Ruby blinked. Hesitantly returned Fish's simper. "Thank you."

Nodding, Fish departed. Ruby looked up and found Oswald wearing the same befuddled expression that she felt on her own face. "Do you think she wants to poison me, too?"

"No, no." Oswald shook his head. "Believe me, I worked with Miss Mooney for quite a while. She is an impatient woman. If she'd wanted to do you harm, she already would have. Given your vulnerable condition, it would have been child's play."

Ruby shook her head. Slowly, as though it weighed a ton. Her eyes never left Oswald's visage. "You wouldn't have let her."

Oswald felt his cheeks flush with embarressment. "You have too much faith in me."

"You don't have enough faith in yourself." Ruby countered. They looked at each other for a long moment, never breaking eye contact even as he sat down, wincing. Oswald looked at Ruby's feet, and snickered. They wouldn't hold still. Her heels were tapping against the soggy mattress, and her toes kept wiggling.

The hour passed quickly, greased by Oswald and Ruby's conversation. Even when Fish brought Ruby some Chinese take-out, thankfully avoiding any meat dishes, they talked enthusiastically. Even though Ruby had to be spoonfed due to her arms' uselessness, they tackled one subject after another. They spoke of everything and nothing, laughing and exchanging ideas, all the while carefully tip-toing over the scorched earth that was their ordeal. It was there, pregnant with dread and drenched with pain, but they ignored it. Surely it would haunt their nightmares. But for now, in this small haven, they had each other and a thousand different topics. That was more than enough.

It facilitated Oswald's plan. He didn't like it, but he could not ignore it either.

Ruby's second round of antitoxin proved easier, and more efficient, than its predecessor. Before the third injection had entered her bloodstream, she found her fingertips twitching. Before long, she could lift her arms.

Laughing, Ruby removed the tube from her nose and began jumping on the mattress like a five-year-old. Oswald couldn't help chuckling at her enthusiasm, at her newfound energy. But before long, Ruby was sputtering. She quickly reclaimed the tube and breathed deeply. Glaring at Strange, she demanded, "What the hell?"

"Your lungs will need time to recover, my dear." The doctor paitently replied. He stood near the shadows, his eyes flickering every now and then. Searching for intruders. "But worry not. Surely by tomorrow morning, you shall recover."

Ruby blinked, then sighed. "Fine." She lay down, arms crossed behind her head. Suddenly her eyes widened. Looking down at herself she grimaced. "Goddamn it, look at me. I'm filthy." Oswald followed her eyes, and felt silly. She was still wearing those bloodstained clothes. Yet during their conversation, he'd hardly noticed them. He'd simply been overjoyed to see her face, animated and expressive and _alive_.

Fish smirked. Summoning a plastic bag as if from magic, she tossed it Ruby's way. "Here ya go, sugar."

Ruby peaked inside and grinned. "Awesome, thanks!" She looked at her former adversary. "Where'd you buy them?"

"I didn't 'buy' them." Fish held up a hand and winked. "Five finger discount."

"Of course." Ruby rolled her eyes. With Oswald's help she rose and headed for the bathroom. The machine dragged behind her, connected by her breathing tube. Which, amazingly, was still functional. No wonder Strange had selected this location. Smiling in thanks at her friend, she disappeared behind the door. The tube snaked in after her.

She continued to smile as she looked at the bathroom. It was not much, with pale green tiles everywhere and rust stains bleeding down the walls. But the mirror, while cracked, still served its purpose. And above all, the sink and bath tub were clean.

As hot water sloshed into the tub, frothing where Ruby added soap (courtesy, again, of Fish's adept fingers), she shed her stiffened clothing. Leaving them in a pile, she examined the items that Fish had given her. A dark green sweatshirt that was easily three sizes too large and inky-blue jeans that probably would have fit Butch. But they were clean, and the material felt soft. That was all that mattered.

As her jewelry sat at the bottom of the sink, which she'd filled with warm soapy water, Ruby finally stepped into the tub.

The first thing she did was scoop a handful of water and pour it on her face. But when she looked down at herself, finally, everything came slamming down. Her body was a tapestry of dried blood and bruises. Some were sickly-green while others were trimmed with purple. Her ankles and wrists were still raw from being restrained. The contours of her mouth was dark and aching from the tight gag. On her shoulders were red hand-prints from where Edward had dragged her unconscious body towards the trap.

Her body was like a hideous movie, rewinding the day's events and shoving them in her face.

Every bruise, every cut, every moment of pain.

And every single one had come from the same person. The one she'd finally come to trust and care about.

Breaking down into sobs, Ruby began to scrub away the blood. Angry, frightened, she dragged the sponge against her skin until it was begging for mercy. Then she dunked her head and doused it with soap, combing out the chunks of dried gore. Soon the water became pink, then a dull red. She sat in it as it cooled, clean and pink. Hugging her knees to her chest she sobbed, shaking her head and whispering the same thing over and over:

"Why?"

* * *

Two hours passed, and the sun began to set. Long, beautiful shadows trickled across the floor like spilled tar. Ruby sat on the mattress, which had since obtained a few blankets. Oswald lay next to her, a secondhand copy of _Moby Dick_ sitting open on his chest and soft snores escaping his mouth. Every now and then Ruby looked back at him, and felt her heart ache at his beauty. At his porcelain skin, contrasting his ebony hair. His long lashes rested gracefully on the dark crescents beneath his eyes. But his lovely features were slightly marred by the angry red bruises running along the sides of his mouth. Bruises that matched hers. Reminding her of that awful silence between them, their words of comfort muffled by cloth digging into their mouths.

Ruby traced the bruises with her fingers, taking care not to wake him. Oswald mumbled something and leaned towards her touch. The unconscious act twisted a knife in the young woman's heart. Only in sleep did Oswald truly drop all barriers, even those he kept from her. As multi-faceted as a diamond, Oswald was many things. He was a fierce kingpin that demanded respect. He was a charismatic, smooth-talking gentleman. He was a slightly spoiled child smothered by his mother. He was a lonely child tormented by bullies. Ruby had come to meet all of these personas, and had fallen in love with every single one of them. Because they all fused to create Oswald.

The only man she'd ever loved, even though he didn't reciprocate.

Yet today, he'd kissed her. Twice. Once for her, once for both. She was still reeling from it.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Oswald suddenly winced. His eyes fluttered open, meeting hers. Offering a quick smile, he soon turned his attention to his knee. Wincing he began to rub it. This caused him to wince even more. Suddenly, Ruby knew what to do. It was so simple, so clear. She gently shooed Oswald's hands away. Then, she began to massage his knee. Oswald looked away, embarressed. Ruby nudged him, still working. When he looked at her, she gave a gentle smile. "You helped me today." Ruby informed him. "You helped me stay alive. I want to return the favor, if only a little bit."

Oswald gave a nervous smile. She'd never rubbed his bum knee before. Not once. Mostly, it was because he'd asked her not to. He'd been too ashamed to let a powerful creature such as she see such a dire weakness in him. The closest she'd come was when they were Cobblair. They always inherited her hips and legs. And afterward, his knee always hurt less.

But this was new.

Then again, so had kissing her.

Oswald swallowed as he watched her work. She concentrated, seemingly knowing exactly when and where to apply pressure. Soon, he felt the agony leaking away like water from a faucet. All that was left was a deep, soothing void.

Ruby grinned as she let go. "There," she brushed some hair out of her eyes, "good as new."

Oswald's heart ached. Despite knowing what he had to do, and that the hour was drawing near, it still hurt. Because of how many ways it could go wrong. And how it may result in him not returning. In him hurting her, yet again. But it was either that, or live in doubt.

Ruby yawned.

Oswald covered her hand with his. "You've had quite the ordeal. You should sleep."

Ruby hesitated, then asked, "Promise you'll be here when I wake up?"

Oswald paused, then nodded. "I promise." The lie sat on his tongue like a stone. It grew even heavier when Ruby lay down. He instinctively did the same. She chuckled and snuggled into him, wrapping an arm around him. Oswald did the same. This was not unusual for them, unlike everything else that had happened today.

Both had lost count of the times that they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms, either after a long night of film-viewing or working. One of the best times had been during Oswald's first Christmas with Ruby. After learning that he'd never seen any of the holiday classics ( _The Grinch_ , _A Christmas Story_ , _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ , and _It's A Wonderful Life_ ), she'd bought all of them, all but tied him to the sofa, and ordered Chinese take-out. By the time the marathon had ended, they had both been cuddling on the couch, leftover soy sauce drying on their faces. It had been one of the least traditional, and most memorable holidays of Oswald's life.

Oswald smiled at the memory as Ruby slowly went limp, her breathing going steady. Her arm remained latched around his middle, both protective and in need of protection. He stayed there for as long as he could, memorizing the feeling. Then, when he knew that it could be delayed no longer, he hugged her tightly before laying her down. Covering her with one of the blankets, Oswald tip-toed out of the room. He quickly checked his pockets to ensure that he had enough to pay for cabfare.

He had some questions that Barbara Kean would have to answer to.


	87. Chapter 86

Chapter 86

Oswald sat in the chair. Right in the middle of the Sirens. Enemy territory. Yet he was not bound, nor gagged. Probably because he wasn't a real threat, and Barbara Kean was well aware of that fact.

Oswald looked up at the woman in the black-and-blue dress. She looked lovely tonight. As always. But what he'd failed to realize was that Barbara was like a beautiful viper: easy on the eyes, but lethal at the slightest touch. He had thought that he could control her. How arrogant of a thought. How blind.

The Sirens was dark with the exception of a search-light shining its way through the window every few minutes. Just for a handful of seconds each time, night turned to day. But Oswald did not need light to see that he'd been defeated. He simply wanted to understand how that had come to pass, and if there was anything salvageable in the wreckage.

Oswald licked his lips. "I suppose I underestimated you, Barbara."

The woman pushed a golden lock out of her face. "It's the curse of great beauty."

"How did it go?" Oswald asked. "You put together what happened to Ed's librarian, and turned him against me?"

"Honestly," Barbara said, "it wasn't too hard."

"And together, you hatched a plan to destroy everything I made...and kill me?" Oswald questioned, feeling strangely calm about the situation.

"Pretty much." Barbara smiled.

"Did you plan to have Ruby executed as well?" Oswald wondered. "To have her strung up like a marionette, and force me to watch as she slowly succumbed to poison?"

Barbara stiffened. A flash of emotion - what was it, regret? Shock? Concern? - darkened those big blues. It was all the evidence that Oswald required to know that Edward had concealed that part of his plan. Like a child clinging to a favorite toy, he'd wanted to keep it all to himself. "Is she...?" Barbara didn't finish the question.

Oswald knew not how to answer. Maybe Barbara had enough compassion (or, more likely, regret for having pushed Ruby to the brink of suicide) to keep Ruby's survival a secret. But after a moment, Oswald saw the flaw in his logic: Barbara wanted to rule the underworld, and as long as Ruby lived, the blonde could never sleep soundly. She might try to sway Ruby to switch sides, but they all knew how well that would turn out. On the other hand, if he lied and told Barbara that Ruby had met her end at the hands of the botulinum toxin, then Ruby would be safe...but only until the truth was revealed. And it _would_ be revealed. Perhaps not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday. And then, Ruby would have nowhere to hide.

Oswald injected grief into his voice. "That is none of your concern."

Barbara wilted, if only by a fraction. It only lasted for a nanosecond, if even that. Then, her composure was back and stronger than ever. She moved behind Oswald, and knelt down. Her hand was on his shoulder, her voice in his ear. "Well, whatever. It was easy. And brother, did you ever take the bait!"

Oswald gave a sad smile as Barbara laughed. The sound seemed slightly forced, but it could have been his impression. He knew that he should have been furious. Raving, threatening, trying to maim. But once again, he did not. He felt as though he'd tried to run the marathon, and only made it to the midway point. Exhausted, drained, and more than a little frustrated in himself. Yet beneath those rocky emotions he felt a deep sea of calm. One that he was all too familiar with: the serenity that comes after a failure.

"Well," he said, "I hope you're happy at the head of the table."

Barbara rose, still behind him, and kept her hands on his shoulders. It wasn't gentle and supportive like when Ruby did it. This was a gesture of subtle restraint, as well as dominance. She may as well have put her high-heeled shoe on his head. "Y'know, the table is more or less littered with dead old dudes. But, hey!" She slapped his shoulders, making him wince. "It's a place to grow!" Her hands slid down, landing on his chest. More than anything, Oswald wanted to bat those hands away. But he didn't. "And now that you got what you want, you don't need Ed anymore." He couldn't help snickering. Ed and Barbara were as different as water and oil, and their partnership was no less improbable. Yet they had managed to take Oswald down in compressed time. Funny, considering their team-up was nothing like his and Ruby's.

He voiced his thoughts, somewhat. "My, my. It didn't take you long to turn on each other." Barbara, her cheek resting on her knuckles, was now close to his face. Close enough that he could count the faint wrinkles between her eyes. Oswald saw nothing but boundless ambition, and it chilled him to the core.

"Yeah, you know, I see it more as a temporary partnership that needs dissolving." Barbara said casually, cheek in palm.

Oswald knew what that meant. He swallowed. "I help you find Ed, and things get better for me. I don't, and you'll kill me. Is that about right?"

"Pretty much."

Oswald looked away, his mind a-flutter.

* * *

Sleep was like a dense blanket over Ruby's senses. Muffling her ears and blackening her sight. Dulling her awareness, yet sparking her mind.

Her dreams were as feverish as they were terrifying. Distorted reflections of the last twelve hours. Every last detail was underlined in red. Edward seemed a bit more demonic, and when Oswald professed his love for him, it felt like the sky was tearing itself apart.

That kiss, though...

Ruby had had compromising dreams about Oswald. They'd been like cotton candy, delicious but ready to dissolve at the first drop of water. For many months, she hadn't had any. Not since Oswald had drunkenly kissed her. But this other one, fueled by compassion and caring, had awakened everything she'd ever wanted to do with - _to_ \- him.

But then the dream darkened again. She felt something pulling at the edges of her subconscious. Horror. Pain. Conflict.

She saw Barbara's face...

Ruby gasped, shot up. Panting, she looked around as her vision cleared. She was still in the abandoned clinic. Everything was normal. The windows had been barred. A few inflatable mattresses had been dragged in to make the room more hospitable. Radiators were humming comfortingly, the air around them wriggling. Fish Mooney was heating up some food in a microwave. Strange was re-reading some of his notes. But when he saw that Ruby was awake, he closed his folder and walked towards her.

Ruby could barely get the words out.

"O...Oswald." She stuttered. "Where is he?"


	88. Chapter 87

Chapter 87

Oswald's head, as delicate and pained as an egg filled with lifeblood, replayed the last hour over and over. Like a faulty record, the images kept repeating themselves. Down to the last syllable. And the horror that had dripped from every second.

Edward and Barbara. Their alliance hadn't been nearly as shaky as they had wanted Oswald to believe. And Edward, he hadn't been satisfied with simply destroying what Oswald had had. He'd wanted to destroy what Oswald had believed. Those had been Edward's words. _"I wanted you to die knowing you were incapable of loving another person."_ But Oswald could, and he did. He had proven that without even realizing it when he had refused to give the Sirens (and Butch, the one-handed traitor) Edward's position. Despite Ed trying to kill both him and Ruby, and done so in a horribly torturous way, Oswald had found that he still loved the man. It had turned out that Edward had been listening, and had been momentarily speechless by his former friend's selfless act.

But not enough to spare his life.

Now here they were, at the docks. It was early dawn, and the sky was choking on fat white clouds. Bells could be heard, and seagulls flew above their heads. Everything was damp and cold. The air was salty, edged with the scent of rotting fish and soaked garbage. The mound of earth that they were standing on, right beneath an incomplete building structure, was rimmed with barnacles.

Oswald was going to die here. At least, that was the outcome that Edward wanted. But Oswald had to try again.

"Ed...I love you." Oswald sobbed. Edward just stood in front of him, blank-faced, a small revolver in his hand. "I know you believe that now. So you need to listen to me when I tell you, by doing this...it will change you."

"I've killed before, Oswald." Edward reminded him gravely.

"Not like this!" Oswald protested, shaking his bound hands. "This won't be a crime of passion, or self-preservation, but the cold-blooded murder of someone you love." His voice cracked at the last two words.

Edward blinked, then his expression hardened. "I. Don't. Love. You." He spoke slowly and deliberately, rubbing chunks of salt into the pus-filled wound.

Oswald reached out to him. Edward effortlessly swatted his hands away. The small pain ignited a fire in Oswald. He looked up at his captor with defiance. "You need me, Edward Nygma! Just as I need you! You cannot have one without the other!"

Edward sucked in air through his teeth. His knuckles on the gun-weilding hand whitened. "You killed Isabella."

"The point is-"

"THAT IS THE POINT!" Edward yelled. "You can't talk your way out of this, Oswald! I've wanted you to suffer as I've suffered! You killed her...so you die." He swallowed. "And it was a shame about Ruby. She was a good person. She didn't deserve to die like that. But if she did, it's only because of you."

Oswald bit his tongue. They all still presumed that Ruby had succumbed to the poison, and he hadn't dared to discourage them. As long as she was dead to them, she wasn't in danger. But there was something else he had to say. "When I met you, you were a nervous, jittery loser. You were nothing! I created Edward Nygma! And I am the only one in the world who truly sees you as you are. Who you could still become."

Edward looked down, eyes impenetrable.

"Ed, are you listening to me?!" Oswald pleaded.

"I'm listening." Edward answered. Neutral.

Oswald inhaled raggedly. "Say something."

Edward was quiet for a second. Then he said, "I loved her, Oswald."

Bright blue eyes widened.

"And you killed her."

 _BANG!_

Oswald gasped, stunned, then slowly looked down. Bright red blood was oozing from his gut, hot on his hands as he attempted to smother it. The pain hadn't kicked in yet. The shock was too great. He could only look up, his mouth and eyes three perfect O's, as Edward grabbed his front and pushed him backwards. Oswald crashed into the icy water. Edward watched him sink, breathing shakily.

Oswald reached up to him as he disappeared in a swirl of red.

Edward sighed, closed his eyes, and tossed the gun aside. Then, he adjusted his suit and turned back. His sombre footsteps soon faded from earshot.

Then, one of the metal beams opened its eyes. Its indigo eyes.

A figure detached itself from the beam, its flat body the same dark gray with hints of rust. Then, like a balloon being filled with air, it regained mass. A bush of short, fair hair popped out of its head. The dull colors faded into peach skin and cheap clothes. Within seconds Ruby was there, and she was terrified. Looking back to ensure that Edward was out of sight, she ran to the ledge and peered into the water. A large crimson oval marked Oswald's descent. She took a deep breath, and kicked off her shoes and jewelry. Then, she dived in.

The water was colder than she could have ever imagined. It was a gelidness so intense that it burned her to the bone. Thinking quickly she webbed her fingers and rendered her legs into a type of mermaid's tail, quickening her speed through the tide. Following the trail like a shark, she soon found Oswald still convulsing and coughing up bubbles. She reached out and grabbed him by the cuffs. Pulled. But he was too heavy, water-logged and too weak to swim. His eyes were fluttering shut.

Thus, she pulled him close and made their foreheads touch.

The red dot burned with the intensity of firework.

Then, Cobblair broke the surface with a cough and a splutter. Pushing the damp hair out of their eyes, they paddeled back to the mound of earth. With a kick and a grunt, they grasped the ledge and pulled themselves up. Streams of water spilled from their combined clothes. Once they were lying on their back, panting and coughing, they glowed once more. Ruby sat up, then quickly moved closer to Oswald. He was moaning softly in pain and clutching his side. Tears were running down his cheeks. "Oz!" Ruby turned her hand into a knife and cut through his bonds. Then, she cradled his face. "Oz! Oz, look at me. Look at me." He reluctantly obeyed, looking like a small, wounded child. She pushed some wet hair out of his face. "Don't be afraid. It's okay." She assured him. "It's okay. I'll take you back to Fish and Strange, and they'll fix you up. Okay?"

Oswald nodded, then burst into tears again. "He...he shot me." He managed to get out. "Ed shot me!"

Ruby's face crumpled. She held him close. "I know. It was torture, hearing all that and not being able to move. But you're alive." She kissed the top of his head. "That's all that matters."

Oswald returned her embrace. Nodded feebly.

* * *

The return was long and ardous. For Oswald's well-being, they fused back into Cobblair. But because Cobblair had once saved a group of wealthy Gothamites from the Mad Hatter, everyone had seen their picture. Thus, they were forced to stick to the shadows. It took a long time to finally reach the abandoned clinic. When they did, their feet were bleeding and their lips were blue from the cold.

The second they passed through the doorway, which had a plastic sheet as a makeshift door, Cobblair fell to their knees. Their vision blackened around the edges. But before they could hit the floor, four strong hands caught them. The moment they had support, Cobblair began to glow. Split in two. In the blink of an eye, Fish was cradling a barely-conscious Oswald while Strange was helping Ruby to her feet. When Fish saw Oswald's colorless face and bloody clothes, she gasped.

"Nygma shot him!" Ruby explained. "And dumped him in the canal. The bullet's still in there. I - I was afraid removing it might make him bleed more." She turned to Strange. "You'll help him, right?"

"We'll do our best, Ruby." Patting Ruby comfortingly on the back, Strange went to help Fish. Together, they picked Oswald up as though he weighed nothing. Ruby followed closely, hands on her heart.

Ruby had never prayed, not even when Master began to die. She had always viewed religion as another type of fairy tale and folklore. How else could she have seen it any other way, when no god had swooped in and saved her from her parents' attic? When they hadn't restored Master's health? She'd come to the conclusion that if there had been any gods, they'd been either imponent, ignorant, or malevolent.

But now, as she witnessed Oswald lying lifelessly on a mattress, Ruby found herself praying to...well, everyone. Every god that she could think of. The Christian God. The Jewish God. Allah. Odin. Anansi. Ra. All the Hindu gods that she could recall. Even the Roman and Greek gods. She was getting that desperate.

For the next several hours, she stood by while Strange and Fish worked. They managed to dig deep into his entrails, causing him to squirm despite the anethesia, and dug out the bloody lump of metal that had nearly ended his life. While they did their best to patch up the torn intestine, a machine steadily pumped leftover water from his lungs. For a little while, it seemed like Oswald would see the morrow.

Then, suddenly, his heart monitor began to go uneven.

Ruby jumped to her feet, eyeing first the machine and then her unconscious friend. "What...?" The beeping grew more frantic. "What's happening?!"

"We..." Strange slowly removed the mask from his face, eyes wide. "We couldn't repair the intestine, and the bullet must have caused more damage. Deeper damage that we can't reach. Not without this rudimentary equiptment. The cold water was also a deep shock for his system, which was already undergoing stress from the gunshot wound." Strange shook his head. "We need to take him to the emergency room."

"And then what?" Fish snapped. "If we wheel him there, the whole town'll know he's alive. If Nygma don't come to finish him off, then he'll send one of the blonde's goons."

"What do you suggest then, Miss Mooney?" Strange asked with just a hint of impatience. "Because I can assure you that if we attempt to continue here, our insufficient materials and limited working hands will lead to his death anyway."

Fish was about to tell him off when Ruby spoke. Quietly. "I'll do it."

Both turned to her. She looked a little scared as she walked towards Oswald. But above all, she looked resolute. Determined. Like a soldier about to run into No Man's Land.

Strange didn't like that look in her eyes. "What do you intend to do?"

"I've cured him lots of times." Ruby stated.

"But this isn't like the other times." Strange replied. "Your clay-related abilities can aid a body's regeneration, but not when the wounds are so severe."

"I know." Ruby nodded. "I tried to heal the Master back when he was sick. But it never worked." She turned to Strange. "But here...I know what to do."

Strange suddenly realized what she meant. It felt as though he'd been suckered in the gut.

Ruby stood before Oswald's unconscious body. Placed her hands on the sides of his face.

"Ruby, stop." Strange blurted out. She turned back to him as he said, "It's not like the other times. Oswald's body is falling in on itself, so to speak. If you go in there, you may not come out."

Ruby processed this for a moment. Her eyes became very large. Then, she reached into her pocket and extracted her phone. "Give me a minute." She stormed out of the room, leaving one of her companions dreading and the other clueless.

Fish turned to Strange, her hands on her hips. "What the hell was that all about?"

Strange sighed. Rubbed his forehead. "To put it simply, Ruby doesn't want to _give_ Oswald a cure. She wants to _be_ the cure."

Fish's eyes widened. "You mean...?" She turned back to the doorway through which Ruby had departed. Just in time for Ruby to return. She was wiping her eyes even as more tears poured. Still, she tried to maintain her composure as she held up her cellphone. "There's a video on this. Show this to Oswald when he wakes up." She tossed it at Fish, who was too shocked to do anything but catch it. Not looking at Strange, Ruby resumed her position. "Now, please leave. I'd like a moment alone with him."

"Ruby-" Strange tried.

"Leave!" Ruby snapped. Then, in a quieter voice, she said, "Please. I want to do this, really. I know he'd do the same for me. But I want to say goodbye to him. This is my last chance to be with him like this." Her tone quivered. "Please."

Strange was silent, then sighed. "Very well." He gently led Fish away. But as she followed, the former boss said, "He's lucky to have a friend like you."

Ruby gave a feeble smile. "It's what we've been doing since Day One: looking out for each other."

Fish simpered sadly, then followed Strange out the door.

Alone at last, Ruby cradled Oswald's face. She looked at his heart rate monitor. It was getting even more jagged. She had to act quickly. Looking back down at him, she savored every little detail about him. For the last time. The slight crow's feet that showed when he smile. His long, beaky nose. His big eyes with long, inky lashes. His large forehead and pointed chin. His Adam's apple sticking out in that thin little neck. Those arching black brows. The only thing that she could not see were those gorgeous blues. But that was okay. She had seen them countless times in her dreams.

The beeping worsened.

Ruby closed her eyes.

She pressed her forehead against Oswald's.

"Goodbye."

* * *

The next morning, it was hailing.

It was the first thing Oswald registered, even before opening his eyes. When he did, it took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust. During that time, the sounds only seemed to grow louder. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, and tried to collect his thoughts. Memories of the day before came back in tidbits. His exchange with Edward: one side tearful, the other coldly furious. The gunshot, then the coldest plunge of his life. Fusion. Ruby's voice. Warm rain on his face, but nowhere else on his body. And then...nothing.

Oswald blinked. "Why am I still alive?" He asked aloud. Nobody answered. He sat up, expecting pain but finding none. Then, he pulled up his shirt. There was a faint scar there, but nothing else.

Suddenly, he stopped. His hands. He couldn't stop looking at his hands. Slowly, fearfully, he held them up for further inspection. Horror ran through him like a knife. While his thumbs and index fingers were fine, the other six fingers were not. They had been fused together to the point that there was only one nail to share between them. They had become, well, _flippers_.

Oswald sat there, his breath rapidly increasing, the terror bottling up inside him, before it finally came bursting out, "HELP!"

Fish and Strange, who'd been breaking fast on a gray and lumpy oatmeal, jumped from their seats as Oswald ran towards them, gasping and yelping like a scared mutt.

"Oswald!" Fish said, trying to calm him down. "What happened to you?"

"Please!" Oswald yelled. "I think something's wrong with me! Look!" He held up one of his flippers for them to see. "What happened?! Am I hallucinating? Please tell me I am!"

"Oh, dear." Strange sighed, rubbing him temples.

The inaction only agitated Oswald more. "PLEASE! HELP ME!"

"Oswald." Fish took his hand - well, flipper. The action soothed him a tiny bit. She looked him right in the eye. "You need to calm down. Once you can do that, we need to show you something. Think you can do that?"

Oswald took a few deep breaths, then nodded. It was only then that he saw that the portable table (stolen, no doubt) had only been set up for two. "Where's Ruby?"

Strange made a weird choking sound. But he cleared his throat. "That...will be explained."

Oswald didn't like that at all, but he allowed Fish to lead him away. She brought him to the bathroom, and pointed. "Look." Oswald obeyed, more out of curiousity than complacency.

The person looking back at him through the slightly dirty glass was familiar, but not himself.

His hair was still as black as a moonless night, but it had grown longer overnight - long enough for him to tuck behind his ears. And it had become wavy, like something out of a shampoo commercial. His face had changed as well. It was rounder, plumper. Oswald seemed to have grown a couple of inches taller, as well. Not only that, but his pallid skin tone had adopted a healthier, peachy tone.

But that was not the most startling change. Besides the flippers, the biggest change was his eye. One had remained the same. Icy, icy blue. But the other had darkened to indigo.

Everything in Oswald went numb.

Slowly, he turned back to Fish.

"Where's Ruby?" He asked softly.

* * *

Strange explained the process to him. But the words just hit Oswald meaninglessly like paper balls. Ruby had fused with him for the final time, using her own body as a cure for his own. But she'd used so much that there hadn't been anything left to take on a material form upon the mission's completion. Thus, in a sense, Ruby was now living in him. Not as one is truly 'alive', but in bits and pieces. Thoughts. Feelings. Still alive, but in shards, like the reflection of a broken mirror. And she had done all this while being aware of the risks.

"Ruby..." Strange swallowed. "She loved you. She loved you enough to give up her body for you. Now, she lives as a sort of ghost inside you. And...I think she's happy that way."

Oswald had been sitting on the mattress, motionless, throughout the entire explanation. He looked down at his flippers. Unable, or unwilling, to speak.

Fish sighed. She extracted Ruby's phone and placed it on Oswald's thigh. It was meatier than it had been before. "She left a video for you." Fish said. "Right before."

Oswald looked up. "Thank you." He said quietly. "This video shall be a fine substitute...until she returns."

Strange opened his mouth to correct him, but Fish hushed him with a look. She then nodded sweetly at Oswald. "Of course, precious. Until she comes back. Do you wanna be alone to see it?"

Oswald inhaled. "Yes. Thank you."

Once again, the two left the room. Oswald opened the phone, grateful that it required no code. It took him less than forty seconds to find the video. It was Ruby painted pale pink in the light of the sunset.

Ruby was looking at the sky, mesmerized, for the first several seconds. The wind ruffled her blonde-brown-gray hair, and her eyes were glassy. She had a melancholic smile on her face. "Isn't it remarkable, Oz? I know Gotham is rotten, but even a place as bad as this has something as gorgeous as a sunset once a day, every day. It's almost as beautiful as one of my gems. Or, who knows? Maybe the sun _is_ a giant gem, changing color as it moves? I wish you could see it. But...more than that, I want you to see more sunsets. Hundreds more. 'Cause I won't be able to."

She finally turned to the screen. She was crying, but her voice was steady. "Oz...we can't both exist anymore. I'm going to become a part of you, in order to save your life. Not only will it save you this time, but it'll save you from any other life-threatening situation. I know, I read Strange's notes. And I want you to know that Strange didn't force me to do this, and both him and Fish tried to stop me, so don't get mad at them, please. I'm doing this because I want you to live." She gave a sad little smile. "Trust me, it's better this way. I know for a fact that if you died, my heart would cease to beat and I would die. At least this way, I'm doing something useful."

Ruby gave a little sob, but pressed on. "Oz, you finally came to me that day in the cemetary. You are the first real friend I ever had, and you did nothing but show me your love and friendship. Sure, things weren't always perfect, but I wouldn't trade our time together for the world. You made me smile, and laugh, like I'd never done before. All of those moments we shared, those were all real, and they'll always be ours." She sniffed. "And I need you to know that from now on, whenever you just feel happy and loving towards yourself...that's me, loving you and loving being a part of you. Because you're going to be something extraordinary. You're going to be...Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot."

She cried for a few seconds, but wiped her tears away and smiled. "And Oswald? Don't forget about me."

"Never." Oswald whispered.

Then the video ended.

And Ruby was gone.


	89. Chapter 88

Chapter 88

Mercury didn't know when he'd fallen asleep. No surprise. He'd been trapped in a blurry circle of rest, waiting, and caring for Beryl for what felt like days. Ever since that green-robed bastard had tried to kill the baby, Mercury had been here. Awaiting Ruby's return, or at least a phone call. Nothing.

Until he felt the weight of Beryl being lifted from his arms.

With a gasp he rose from slumber. His hand clasped around the intruder's wrist.

What he saw, he almost could not comprehend.

Oswald Cobblepot was standing over him, holding Beryl as though he always had. It was the same snobby-looking mayor that Mercury had run into several times...and yet it wasn't. Beryl was cooing and gurgling, playfully seizing that beaky nose. Peering closer, Mercury saw some key differences. The kind that send chills down his spine. A rounder face. Wavy hair. Flippers that had replaced hands. But the detail that drew Mercury's attention the most was the eye. The dark blue one.

His mouth suddenly felt as though he'd been gargling motor oil. "Where's Ruby?"

Oswald stared at him for a long moment. Then, he sighed. Sat down.

Mercury was quiet throughout the entire tale. He barely moved or blinked. He simply stared at Oswald with glassy, dead eyes. Then, when Oswald concluded the story by highlighting his altered features, Mercury finally reacted.

He tackled Oswald. The smaller man tried to push him off, but to no avail. Mercury showered him with punches and kicks, growling and cursing, until Oswald finally head-butted him. The younger man fell off, groaning. Oswald scrambled to his feet. Mercury glared up at him. "You know what I wish?!" He yelled. "I wish you had died and not her!"

 _Died._

"She is not dead." Oswald replied tersely. The word hit him like a blow to the chest. _Dead. Dead. Dead_. "In a sense, she is still alive - in me."

"A fate worse than death." Mercury snarled. Viciously, he spat at Oswald's feet. "Now, get out of here before I show you what I can really do!"

"I was going to anyway." Oswald collected the baby once more. Wincing at the pain in his face, he peered down at the child. She smiled up at him. Perhaps recognizing her guardian in him. Oswald's heart melted. "But first...I need to drop Beryl off in her new home."

"What?" Mercury suddenly didn't sound angry, but frightened.

Oswald turned to the younger man. His indigo eye was leaking tears. "Edward and Barbara will hunt me down. Maybe not now, mayhaps not tomorrow, but it will eventually happen. I do not want this innocent babe to wind up in the crossfire. Edward has already broken in here. He will do it again."

Mercury began to shake his head, but Oswald could see that the truth had reached him. "I - I'll keep her safe."

"You can't." Oswald replied. "But I know someone who will. Especially if he knows not who she came from." He looked down at the baby again. She smiled at him. He tried to smile back.

* * *

That night, a figure hurried through the streets. It wore heavy velvet, its face concealed. Its only definitive trait would have been its slight limp - but only if someone were to watch carefully.

It moved as swiftly and as silently as a shadow. Constantly looking over its shoulder, it sighed with relief each time it found itself to be alone.

Finally, it found itself in front of the apartment door. All it had taken was a knife and a well-timed strike to enter.

The figure stopped. This was the hard part.

Reaching deep within the folds of its robe, it extracted the crib. It was small. Portable, and warm. The baby still slept. When she'd awaken, she would be in the arms of her new father.

Oswald closed his eyes. The indigo one began to leak again. Taking a deep breath, he buried his hand in his pocket. Extracted an envelope stuffed with money. Five thousand dollars, to be precise. The first of many monthly amounts. Untraceable. Unable to be returned. And the note.

Trying not to cry, Oswald placed the crib down. He knelt down, hissing at the pain in his leg. Then, he placed the envelope under Beryl's arm. There. That was all. But he couldn't leave. He could feel Ruby's emotions filling him like fire. Undying love for this little baby, and a deep sorrow at the prospect of letting her go. But she also knew that, in this way, Beryl would be safe. Oswald sensed the understanding lined with sadness. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the baby's fuzzy head. A few more tears, hotter than summer rain, landed on the baby's face. Then, Oswald buzzed the doorbell and ran out of sight.

James Gordon answered the door. He looked around and saw no one. Had it not been for the baby's gurgle, he'd have retreated indoors. But when he saw the child bundled up at his feet, he stopped. Eyes widening, he knelt down. In amazement, Jim looked at the child. At her tufts of fiery hair and her big, green eyes. It was then that he noticed the envelope. When he saw the crisp dollars stuffed inside, it took his breath away. Then, he found the note.

 _Please care for her._  
 _Her name is Beryl._  
 _She's five months old._

Only three sentences to explain a life. Jim sighed, looking down the corridor, as a sense of confusion filled him. But then, the baby began to cry. He looked down, uncertain, before finally scooping her up - envelope, crib, and all - and bringing her indoors. After a few seconds, the crying stopped.

Oswald watched this unfold, a small smile on his rounded face.

* * *

Weeks passed.

With the help of Fish and Strange, Oswald prepared himself for the upcoming battle. At the suggestion of...what was left of Ruby, he began to search for the 'freaks' that he had ironically chased out of town. The part of his mind that no longer belonged to him spat out the addresses with relative ease. The closest ones were called upon first. Ivy Pepper, first. The woman with the green thumb; the one whom Ruby had saved from drowning. It didn't take her long to hop aboard. She still felt indebted to Ruby, and besides, she was bored.

Victor Fries was a tougher nut to crack.

The trip was a difficult one. Oswald and Ivy, bundled up like children, spent nearly a week travelling north. When they arrived, Fries' hideaway was little better than an igloo. At first, the ice man had been ready to crush Oswald's windpipe. Even Oswald's promise to aid Fries' recovery had done little to still his hand. It had only been when Oswald's sunglasses had fallen off, revealing his indigo eye. Fries had stopped. Sensing something - someone - different within his unwanted visitor, Fries had agreed. That eye had reminded him of the person that had made his escape possible.

Firefly soon followed for a similar reason. Firefly, formerly Bridgit Pike, pyromaniac extraordinaire.

In order to evade suspicion, Fish and Strange departed from the group. But they would reunite soon.

Before leaving, Strange had asked to speak to Oswald in private. When his request had been granted, the man had suddenly looked ready to cry.

"She was my finest creation, no doubt." Strange had admitted. "I cared for her like a daughter, like with all of my creations. But Ruby...she was special. She gave her life for yours...all I ask is that you not squander it." He'd looked straight in Oswald's eyes. "Can you do that for me?"

Oswald had merely blinked. Hard. "But she's not dead."

Recognizing defeat, Strange had departed.

Soon afterward, the small army had returned to Van Dahl Manor. It was filthy. A layer of dust covered everything, like a pale blanket. There was no food. Portraits and mirrors had fallen from the walls. Dry, dead leaves had swept in from the open windows. The air was crisp and cold.

But as he entered the saloon, Oswald smiled. "It's good to be home."

"FYI, I've been to Wayne Manor, and it's way cleaner." Ivy removed her gloves.

Firefly spoke coldly. "You didn't tell me Fries would be a part of this."

"You're a little hot." Fries growled. "Maybe you should COOL OFF!"

In seconds, they were aiming their weapons at each other. A flame-thrower against an ice-gun. Highly powered and deadly.

That is, it would have been had Ivy not spoken up. "Oh, come on, guys. We're all part of the same team now."

The duo continued to glare daggers at each other, weapons at hand.

Ivy added, "A family?"

The guns were put away. The glares died down. Firefly marched out of the room. "Keep him away from me."

Oswald barely paid attention to any of this. He could only stare at the painting, still on display. Once upon a time, it had been a tradition-turned gift. A portrait of himself to be added to those of his forefathers, with Edward added in as an apology. Now, it bore a huge, bright green question mark. Ruined. The discovery cut Oswald deeper than he'd expected it to. Somehow, he'd thought that Edward would leave their past intact. But no. Even that was unsafe from his wrath.

Fries' blunt observation brought Oswald back to reality. "There's a question mark on your face."

Oswald closed his eyes. Took a second to collect himself. Then, he said, "You can sleep in the freezer." Scowling, the ice man moved away.

Ivy, who had long since gotten comfortable on the sofa, called out, "Hey, Pengy! Check this out!"

Oswald's temper flared. He pointed at her as he approached. "Do NOT call me 'Pengy'! I..." The rest of his words died on his tongue. The flickering television screen stood before him. Edward's face, cackling at him. Two words glared through the screen.

Oswald felt a thousand transitions take place in his heart. Shock. Horror. Pain. And then, slowly, amusement. "'Riddler'?" He sniggered. "How long did he have to think about that one?"

Not for the first time, the realization hit Oswald. If it hadn't been for the Riddler, then none of this suffering would have transpired. Beryl would still be here. Mercury would still be talking to him.

Ruby would still be here.

Oswald flicked the television off. He turned to his troops. "Rest up, everyone." He instructed. "Tomorrow is going to be a busy day."

* * *

It was no surprise where he decided to sleep. Ivy and Firefly claimed one of the guest rooms. Fries opted to sleep outside. But for some reason, Oswald could not bring himself to sleep in his own bed. It simply did not feel like his bed anymore.

Besides, he had another room to visit. He'd known that this moment would come, but he hadn't wanted to face. Now, it glowered over him like the summer sun.

With a click and a creak, the door to Ruby's bedroom opened. Slowly, he hobbled inside.

Everything was exactly as Ruby had left it. The bed was made, but dusty. On her desk, a small pile of glittering gems sat on a velvet handkerchief. Waiting to be examined. In the corner was a basket of dirty laundry. The rug was soft beneath Oswald's feet. Three unread books sat on the nightstand. The one on top of the pile, _Christine_ , was marked halfway through.

It finally hit Oswald. It had been hiding beneath the surface for weeks. He'd always buried it deeper whenever it had reared it head. But now, it was rushing to the surface faster than he could grab the shovel. He had been telling himself that somehow, Ruby could come back. That she had never truly left in the first place. But now that he was here, surrounded by her things, the truth hit him like a ton of bricks.

Ruby would never finish _Christine_. She would never wipe the dust off her bed, throw back the covers, and sleep in it. She would never wash those clothes in the basket, iron them, and wear them again. She would never examine those gems, or file them away.

This room had been Ruby's whole world for almost a decade.

But now, bereft of her, it was empty. Soulless. And that hollowness would never be filled.

Just like the void in Oswald's life.

Oswald sat on the bed. It creaked under his weight. At this range, he could still smell her on the blankets. Lemons and rosemary.

There, surrounded by his friend's possessions, Oswald broke down. For the first time since that terrible morning, he allowed himself to mourn Ruby's passing.

It hurt like a thousand daggers. He cried more than he'd thought himself capable. But as dawn at least broke through in the east, Oswald felt it. Just a glimmer, but it was there. A warmth. A presence.

A ghost inside him. Here to stay.


	90. Epilogue

Epilogue

Twenty Years Later

The grand opening of Gotham's art gallery had been intended to be a smashing hit. Instead, it turned out to be a smashing robbery.

Before the manager had had time to blink, gas had filled the chamber. His eyes had begun to sting to the point that he hadn't been able to keep them open. Then, he'd suddenly been on the ground. A pair of small nets, woven from barbed wire, had fastened themselves around his wrists and ankles. He'd lain on the floor, coughing and leaking tears, as his employees met a similar fate. All the while, men in suits walked in like they owned the place. One by one, as calmly as a housewife picking out apples at the grocery store, they began to take down the paintings from the walls and carefully stored them in folders. The same happened to statues and vases, though with a bit more care involved.

The manager was about to demand who these men worked for when the answer's shadow fell over him.

"Ah, Monet. One of my favorites." The figure chuckled. "Be careful, you buffoons. Those paintings are worth more than you are."

The manager looked up. His blood turned to ice.

The Penguin stood before him. A rotund, pale man in his fifties, the Penguin wore a fine black suit and polished leather shoes. The spats on his shoes were as spotless as fresh snow. Despite his age, the Penguin had only a few wrinkles here and there, and they were only visible when he contorted his face. His nose was beak-like and his chin was weak. He had long, flowing hair the color of pitch that went past his shoulders. He wore a top hat, a monocle that made one of his eyes look freakishly large (yet ironically made it difficult to guess its color), and a ruby brooch over his heart. He leaned on his umbrella, a smug smile on his round face.

"Sorry for the intrusion, sir," The Penguin apologized in an oddly effeminate voice, "but at least you've been ransacked by a man with impeccable taste." He adjusted his tie with his flippers, smirking all the way.

Two of the Penguin's goons placed their hands on the last painting. But with a silver flash, they suddenly found themselves cuffed to the wall. By bat-shaped restraints.

The Penguin's eyes widened. He spun around to find a tall, muscular man appear as if by magic. Sheathed in black and donning a bat mask, the vigilante had foiled his plans plenty of times. Each time caused only a delay in the inevitable, of course, but the man's presence certainly made the Penguin's blood boil.

"Two days out of prison," Batman said, "and you're back to your old games, huh, Penguin?"

"You again!" Penguin exclaimed. "And again, and _again!_ " He held up the umbrella and squeezed the trigger. A flurry of bullets showered the wall, but Batman had already ducked.

His umbrella-gun smoking, the Penguin turned and fled. A bat-shaped shadow was in close pursuit. Reaching into his pocket, the Penguin extracted a few metal orbs no bigger than marbles. He let them fall. Smoke burst forth as if from a geyser. Batman held his cape over the lower half of his face, masked eyes scanning.

The Penguin slid down the banister. Landed on his feet as nimbly as a cat.

But then, with a flash of black and yellow, a pair of boots landed on his back. He crashed on his stomach.

Batgirl hovered over him, a pair of cuffs in her yellow gloves.

Penguin knocked her down, then scrambled to his feet. She froze, ready to defend herself. He was at an advantage here, and they knew it. He merely looked at her. At the fiery hair that flowed from her mask. At those big, bright green eyes that glared at him defiantly. Then, he ran out. She sat up, stunned.

Five minutes later, as the police cars' sirens blasted through the night, Batman stepped out of the gallery. Batgirl stood by his side. The workers, now freed, were more than happy to explain what had happened. The hired help scowled as they were led into the vehicles, their hands behind their backs.

From his perch, far above the ground, Oswald Cobblepot watched the scene unfold. It was a pity that the plan had failed. He had truly been looking forward to stealing such fine works. Half of it would have been sold on the black market at outrageous prices. The other half would have decorated his mansion. He'd even had his eye on a priceless pearl necklace that would have gone on the altar. Oh, well. Such is life. There would be another day, and another crime to commit.

Oswald watched Batgirl. She carried herself with great pride and confidence, as though she had been born to do this. She had grown as lean and strong as a wolf. In some aspects, physically, she reminded him of someone else. Somewhere in the posture, something in the bone structure. Just a shadow, maybe less, but it was there. Her eyes had stayed the same.

This wasn't the first time Oswald had seen her. He had watched her blossom into a beautiful desert bloom over the years, never seen but vigilant. Making sure no harm befell her. Indeed, during their interactions, he had never hit her. Not once, even though he'd had plenty of chances. And none of his men were allowed to hurt her. Batman? They could put him in a wheelchair for all Oswald cared. But not her. Not the last living relic of his friend.

Gordon had done a splendid job at raising her. The monthly cheques, anonymous and generous, had greatly helped him do it. Each month, for two decades, a cheque of anything between five and ten thousand dollars was mailed directly to the Gordon residence - even if they moved, even if they were away, it found them. More than once, it had left Oswald unable to fill his belly or keep his mansion warm, but he had never regretted it. When it came time for Beryl...no, _Barbara_ to attend college, the cheques had become more frequent and more plentiful. When coupled with her excellent average and sublime athletic performance, they had allowed her to attend her dream college.

Oswald, and the presence inside him, had wanted to do more. Maybe send her a present each Christmas, on each birthday. When Barbara had fallen and broken her knee once, Oswald had wanted to send her flowers and 'get well soon' balloons. But they had to be prudent. Those would have been easier to track down. All it would take is one fingerprint.

Thus, he had made due with simply peering into her life without ever entering it. Well, unless one included their interactions as Penguin and Batgirl. Those were inevitable. They had picked different paths.

Nor could Barbara ever know the truth. Hell, her own father didn't know it. The truth would crush them both. Oswald didn't want that, and nor did the ghost living in his heart.

Oswald would've liked things to turn out differently. But he'd peeked into Barbara's life often enough to know that she was happy. And that was enough for the both of them.

Suddenly, one of Oswald's goons managed to grab one of the cops' gun. He managed to make it to the curb before Batgirl appeared behind him and trapped him in a headlock. Two minutes later, he was back in the police car.

Oswald chuckled. He removed his monocle. Behind the frosted glass, his indigo eye was tearing up. "Well, Ruby, it looks like she's growing up."

For a brief moment, the full moon peeked out from behind the clouds. Its pallid light fell upon Oswald's perch. In the window next to him, a second figure reflected in the glass. It was a woman in her late forties. She had a figure average for her age, and her curly hair was mostly gray. It tumbled down her shoulders, free and uncombed. She wore enough jewelry to fill a store, all glittering softly in the moonlight. Her face, as round as a coin, was marred by a few lines - mostly, the ones that came with smiling. Her eyes were large and dark blue.

Silent, she took Oswald's hand. He could almost feel its warmth. Almost.

For as long as the moonlight was present she sat next to him, holding his hand.

A small smile was on her face.


End file.
